


The Bones of a Hellhound

by TheOrangeWritingRanger



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: ...Or is he?, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Animal Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Fake AH Crew, Freewood - Freeform, GTAV - Freeform, GTAV AU, I feel that I should add that this is NOT Furry lol, M/M, Minor Character Death, Ryan is a puppy dog, Slow Burn, Torture, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-10-24 14:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 79,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10743699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOrangeWritingRanger/pseuds/TheOrangeWritingRanger
Summary: Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…





	1. No Animals Were Harmed in the Execution of this Heist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Torture.

You never really saw the stars in Achievement City. It was so huge that the light pollution it produced erased all but the brightest phases of the moon. Tonight however, the dirty black sky was eclipsed by roiling thunderclouds. No rain had fallen yet, but the distant grumbles of thunder echoed over the sluggish city, bringing with them an oppressive humidity. To walk outside it wasn’t as if you began sweating; it was more like you immediately started condensating.

Accommodating the growls of thunder, were the anxious barks of dogs. A door slammed open and a man with a red face and a dirty wife-beater strode out into a barren yard ringed with razor wire.

“Shut the fuck up you mangy bastards! I don’t pay you to howl at the goddamn weather!” he bellowed and then chuckled at his own joke. Some of the dogs calmed at his shouts, but the rest continued to writhe and yelp at the ends of their chains, the whites of their eyes showing.

“I said shut up!” roared the man, storming towards them. There was a high whine as he aimed a kick in the midst of dirty fur. The dogs quieted and slunk back with their tails between their legs. All except for one. He was a huge mutt with shaggy black fur. He was on the shortest of chains, and continued to growl. The man smirked as he regarded the dog.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re so scary, aren’t you?” he said.

The dog lowered its head, hackles raised.

“Oh, you wanna have a go, do ya?” The man stepped towards the dog, grinning cruelly. The growls increased in volume as he drew nearer. Suddenly, the dog leapt. Its chain was longer than the man had anticipated. He cursed and kicked out, catching the dog solidly in the ribs. It snapped and snarled, catching the leg of his pants in its teeth. The man yelled in surprise as his feet were pulled out from underneath him. He grabbed the nearest thing he could and belted it across the head. The iron rebar struck with a sickening crack. The dog reared back, whining, then shook itself and snarled again. Again, the man smashed the dog’s head, pushing it further off him as he scrabbled backwards in the dirt. Huge jaws snapped at his legs, but he was finally out of range. The crazed dog struggled at the limit of its chain, pulling so hard it was choking itself. The man got to his feet, breathing hard and glaring at the animal.

“You fucking mongrel!”

He bared his teeth and raised the rebar, bringing it down on the animal’s skull again. The dog dropped, yelping. Several more blows to the head and neck had it cowering at his feet. A few kicks in the ribs were delivered for good measure, leaving the dog mostly limp in the dirt. The man dropped the rebar, breathing heavily.

“Bastard,” he muttered and stomped back inside the building.

 

A building away in a nondescript van, a young man with wild sandy hair thumped his fist on the wall.

“Bastard,” he muttered, his voice thickly accented with something near an Oxford-dialect. “Geoff, are you seeing this?” he said, turning to the older man seated behind him. A deeply furrowed brow currently resided above Geoff’s tired, heavy lidded eyes. His impressive handlebar moustache quivered.

“I always knew these guys were scum. Asshole treats his dogs like that… Last nail in his coffin, I’d say,” Geoff said.

“Fuckers,” came a distinctly Boston voice over the coms. 

“Too right Lil J,” came another voice, this time with hints of New Jersey. “There are some rules you just gotta have - No hurting civilians, kids, or animals.”

“You guys nearly in position?” asked Geoff.

“Almost,” said the one called Lil J. “Michael and I are just coming up around the corner. We’ve already set the charges around the side of the building.”

Geoff nodded. “Okay, good. These fucks will have no idea what’s hit them.” He looked up. “You two ready? Jack?” he asked. A larger man with a long red beard glanced back from the driver’s seat of the van and a pistol slide could be heard.

“Good to go,” replied Jack.

“Gav?”

“Just let me get this drone back and I’ll be right there with you,” said Gavin. He twiddled with a joystick on the control panel in the van and the view on the screens of the drab compound jerked and turned.

“Okay. Me and Jeremy are in position now,” said Michael.

“All right, just to reiterate, this mission is about pest control. We can grab stuff from inside, sure, but mainly we’re here to exterminate the vermin that is the Hellhound Gang,” said Geoff.

There were excited noises of agreement over the comms. Gavin opened the back of the van and stuck a hand out, neatly catching the little black drone that hovered there and drew it inside.

“Alright boys - let’s get these motherfuckers,” Geoff said with a grin.

The three piled out of the van and hurried up the street. They paused on the corner.

“Hit it Michael,” said Geoff.

“With pleasure,” Michael said, and you could just hear the evil grin in his voice. There was an earth-shaking explosion and the air and street was suddenly filled with smoke and debri.

The three waited for the rain of rock to cease, then darted towards the dust cloud. They were joined by two others as they strode through what used to be the side of the Hellhounds’ club house. The wall was currently strewn up and down the road in multiple, more manageable chunks. Lights attached to their weapons cut swathes through the gloom, picking out confused and dazed members of the Hellhound gang. The sharp retort of gunfire rang out in the night downing at least half a dozen of the gang members before the shock of the unexpected exterior renovations finally wore off. Geoff and Gavin threw themselves behind an overturned locker while Jack and Jeremy sheltered in a doorway. Michael was crouched behind a pile of rubble, his curly red hair just visible over the broken bricks.

“Let’s see how the fuckers like this!” he shouted. He pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it towards the doorway from which the majority of returning fire was coming from. There was an unbecoming shriek and then an explosion. Gavin laughed and the five moved forward. They split up in the hallway beyond, stepping over fresh corpses, and hunting down the remaining members of the gang. The three younger members of Geoff’s crew moved together. Michael led the group, automatic rifle up and ready. Gavin followed and Jeremy covered their six. They cleared out the ground floor while the two older crew members killed anything that moved upstairs.

“ _ We think the upper floor is clear now _ ,” called Geoff over the comms.

“Gotcha,” said Jeremy. “The ground floor is nearly the same. We just got two more rooms I think-”

There was a flurry of movement and the rat-a-tat of bullets from the end of a hallway and Michael cried out in alarm, stumbling and falling to his knees. Gavin stepped past him, returning fire, and then spun to kneel next to his fallen friend.

“Michael! Are you okay Michael?” he cried, hands flying over the other man’s torso. Michael grunted and slapped them away.

“ _ What’s wrong? Who’s down? _ ” Jack’s voice was panicked.

“I’m fine. He hit the body armour. Just winded me is all,” Michael said, patting his chest.

“Micahel, don’t  _ do  _ that,” Gavin said.

“Do what? Get shot?”

“Yeah. I don’t like it,” said the other man.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Sure Gavvers. Next time I’ll just repel the bullets with my mind. Why didn’t I think of doing that all along?” he snapped.

“ _ Enough with the lover’s quarrel! Get the bastard who shot at you _ ,” Geoff yelled.

Gavin and Jeremy hauled Michael to his feet and they darted down the corridor after the guy.

“He’s legging it! Geoff! Jack! You guys head down and around the back just in case he tries to escape that way,” Gavin called.

“ _ Got it, _ ” said Geoff.

The three lads sprinted towards the door of the last room in the building. They paused to check if any of the gang were left in here, but the room was empty. A door slammed shut across from them.

“Fuck!” yelled Michael and charged at it. He grabbed the handle and yanked it. “Cocksucker’s locked it from the other side!”

“Kick it down Jeremy!” yelled Gavin.

Jeremy grinned and paced to the middle of the room. Michael hastened out of the way. Jeremy planted his feet and took a runup.

“Hap!” he cried and launched himself feet-first at the metal door. It crumpled under him. Gavin whooped and Michael hollered.

“Yeah, Lil J!” Michael yelled as they both ran forwards and helped him to his feet.

The man had led them out into the backyard. It was enclosed by high fences topped with barbed wire. They sprinted after him. At some point during the raid, the pregnant stormclouds above had finally burst. The downpour was torrential. The last member of the Hellhounds was halfway up the fence, his dirty wife-beater soaked as he struggled to climb.

“Got you now, slimebag!” yelled Jeremy raising his gun. The man’s arm was outstretched, pistol shaky in his grip, but he hit was he was aiming for; the clip that attached all of the dogs to the far wall sparked as it snapped. The dogs lunged towards them.

“Oh shit,” said Michael. Gavin screamed as he turned and ran, Michael and Jeremy hot on his heels. The door to the building was too far - Gavin opted instead for a bunch of barrels and old cable drums stacked haphazardly at the other end of the yard. He scrabble up the stack, all lanky limbs and joints, Jeremy following with a skill that suggested perhaps he’d done gymnastics in a past life. Michael let out a stream of rich curses as his foot slipped on the wet plastic drums and he slithered back down, landing with a splat in the mud.

“Michael!” shrieked Gavin. Jeremy scrambled back down a ways, grabbing Michael's arm and hauling him higher, barely avoiding the snapping, slathering jaws below. Michael climbed the rest of the way up, panting heavily.

“Thank’s Lil J,” he said. The dogs howled in a frenzy and continued to throw themselves at the base of the stack. The eave of the building was now between them and the man in the wife-beater.

“Well fuck! How are we going to get him now?”

“I’ll see if I can duck under the roof and get him,” Jeremy said. He checked his clip and look down at the dogs below. He lowered himself carefully down onto a barrel and crouched. He wiped the rain from his face and squinted through the sights of his gun.

“I - almost. He’s climbed too high. I can’t get him from here.”

“Dammit!”

“ _ Not to worry _ ,” said Geoff over the comms. “ _ I got this one. _ ”

Through the dark and the rain, the three saw Geoff appear on the other side of the fence. He drew his gun, but was too slow. The climbing man let off a wild shot and somehow managed to hit Geoff’s gun. Geoff dropped it with a curse.

“Don’t fuckin’ move!” bellowed the man. Geoff scowled but raised his hands above his head.

“Fuck,” muttered Jeremy. He was still unable to get a bead on the guy.

“Jack! Jack, where are you?” asked Michael.

“ _ I’m at the van. What’s going on? _ ”

“We’re all pinned down. You have to help Geoff!”

“I’m on my way.”

Geoff flinched as a bullet ricocheted off the wet concrete at his feet. He’d tried to inch closer to his dropped weapon.

“I said  _ don’t fucking move _ ,” yelled the man.

They were at a stalemate. The man couldn’t climb any higher while still aiming at Geoff, but couldn’t get a steady enough shot to actually kill Geoff before he could get to his own weapon.

Gavin thought he could hear Geoff’s teeth grinding over the comms.

“We have to help him!” he hissed.

“How?” asked Michael, gesturing at the sea of angry, clashing teeth below them.

“ _ I’m coming as fast as I can! _ ” Jack said.

Geoff glanced down. Most of the pack of voracious beasts were still desperately trying to get at the lads, but out of the gloom, another emerged. It began pacing back and forth at the fence. Geoff recognised it as the black monster that the man had beaten earlier. The growl that emanated from the creature echoed the rolling of the thunder overhead. Its eyes were a piercing pale blue in the dreary darkness. A cruel grin twisted at Geoff’s mouth.

“Dude, you are seriously going to regret messing with the Fake AH Crew,” he said.

The guy spluttered with laughter. “I don’t know how you can just stand there and say that when I am about to shoot you stone fuckin’ dead.”

“You’d better do it quickly then,” Geoff said with a shrug.

The man steadied himself on the fence, and balanced his gun on his other hand. “And why’s that?” he asked, bringing Geoff into his line of fire.

“Because karma’s a bitch,” said Geoff.

The black dog leapt straight up, teeth clamping closed on the man’s leg. He screamed and flailed, but still managed to hang onto his gun and the fence. Geoff took the moment of distraction to dash forward and snatch up his gun. He levelled it at the man.

“You know what? It wouldn’t be fair to just shoot you,” he said. He moved the barrel to the man’s left hand which was still clutched tightly to the mesh and pulled the trigger. The man screamed and released the fence. He fell with a wet crunch. The black dog was on him in a split second. They scuffled in the mud, the pistol going off several times. The dog yipped in pain, but the man’s screams were cut off after a minute or so of frenzied ripping and tearing. Dark red swirled in the puddles, mixing with the mud. The black dog staggered, shreds of clothing and unidentifiable viscera in its teeth. It took a few steps and then slumped to the ground.

“Whoa… that’s a nasty way to go man,” said Michael.

There was a snap of thunder and the pack of dogs surrounding the lads howled and fled at the sound, dashing towards the door of the now empty base.

“Aw… poor things,” said Gavin.

“Poor things? Those dogs nearly ate us!”

“I’m sure they were just really, really hungry Michael!”

“Yeah… they probably were. Still,” said Michael. He looked around. “Hey, I think we can reach the edge of the roof from here. We can just go up and over the balcony there instead of going back through the house and running into any of Gavin’s poor widdle puppy dogs.”

Geoff climbed down off the fence and walked around. He shielded his eyes from the rain and looked to where Michael was pointing.

“Good idea buddy. Jack, can you bring the van around? They boys can climb off the balcony and onto the roof instead of just jumping off,” Geoff said.

“ _ I’m almost there anyway _ ,” Jack said in their ears.

Jeremy leapt nimbly onto the balcony and helped Michael across after him. When he reached out for Gavin’s hand though, the young man was too busy staring off into the dark yard.

“Gav?” A frown crossed Jeremy’s face. “Gavin? Where are you going? We have to get out of here now man. The cops are probably on the way now. This is a bad neighbourhood sure, but after that much gunfire,  _ someone _ is going to call the police.”

But Gavin was ignoring him. He slipped and slid back down the stack of drums and landed with a splash.

“Gavin!” hollered Michael. “What the fuck is he doing?”

Gavin trotted over towards the ravaged corpse. Jack pulled up in the van.

“Gav! Guy’s dead as dicks, dude! We gotta get out of here now!” yelled Geoff.

“Wait a sec, Geoff.” Gavin skirted around the dead man, and instead stepped cautiously towards a smaller form, now lying almost invisible in the darkness and the rain. His voice was soft over the comms.

“Hey little guy…” He stroked the black mound.

“Gavin! What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s the dog, Michael! He’s still alive! I can feel him breathing,” said Gavin.

Geoff groaned over the line.

“Geoff…”

“Fuck no Gavin! You are not bringing that mongrel home with us!” Geoff yelled as Jack arrived. He yanked open the door of the van  and got in. He was soaked to the bone, but worst of all, his moustache was drooping.

“Geoff, he’s bleeding. That bloody sod shot him,”

“No Gavin!”

“But Geoff! He’s so cold! I think he’s lost a lot of blood!”

“No. Hell no.” Geoff twisted the rearview mirror around to check his facial hair in dismay. Jack look reproachfully at him. 

“Geoff, he’s really hurt. We can’t just leave him!”

“I said no Gavin! You saw him! He’s a vicious, bloodthirsty animal!”

“Geoff…” Jack said softly.

“Please Geoff! He’s whimpering…”

“Gaaaah!” You could almost hear the sounds of Geoff pulling his hair out over the line.

“He’ll die, Geoff! He saved you, and he’s gonna die now…”

There was a moment of silence. Jack stared at Geoff, his brows drawn together. Geoff sighed angrily.

“Fine! Fuckin’ fine! Bring the damned dog! It’s gonna fuckin’ eat us all, but fuck it! Whatever!”

“Thank you Geoffrey!”

“Just get it in the car already…”

“I uh…”

“What now Gavin?”

“... he’s too heavy for me to carry…”

“I am going to strangle you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know how many chapters there will be now! I'm nearly finished writing the whole thing! And to celebrate, I decided to put this one up a little early. I do usually put the chapters up during the evening on Sundays, but as I was a little late with the last one, you get this one at 12:30am ;)


	2. Fangs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \-------  
> Vagabond recovers slowly. He might try to eat things he shouldn't...

In the end, it took Gavin, Michael and Jeremy to carry the dog out to the van. He was much too heavy to lift over the fence, so they did have to venture back through the Hellhounds’ gutted base after all. The three were dripping with mud and looking like drowned rats by the time they loaded him into the van. They pulled away, tyres squealing on the wet road as sirens approached. Geoff looked furious in the passenger seat, but said nothing as Gavin crouched by the dog’s head, petting and stroking it, a constant stream of cooing and gentle noises issuing from his mouth. Jeremy checked over the rest of the creature’s body.

“I don’t know much about dogs, but he seems to be breathing much too shallowly,” said Jeremy, hands running over the huge chest. His fingers trailed lightly down a foreleg and the dog jerked and whined piteously even in its unconscious state. All three lads flinched.

“And that is definitely broken.”

“We should take the mutt to a vet,” Geoff said and pulled out his phone. “I’ll find the nearest one.”

“What vet will be open at this time of night Geoffrey?” said Gavin.

Geoff grunted and put his phone down.

“What do we do about his broken leg then?” asked Michael.

“We have to take him to Caleb,” Gavin said, matter-of-factly.

“Caleb? Caleb is a people doctor, you realise that?” Geoff snorted.

Gavin sniggered. “He didn’t _used_ to be a people doctor… he was a vet before he started doing literal chop-shop for Achievement City’s criminal network. He doesn’t actually have a proper medical licence.”

“ _What?_ ” Geoff spun in his seat and stared at Gavin. “You’re lying.”

“It’s true! Why else do you think we get our tranquilizers solely through him? He can get them cheap wholesale through his vet practice…”

“I… uh…” Geoff looked bewildered and sat back in his seat. “So every time one of you has gone under his knife…”

“Eh. People are basically bigger dogs.” Gavin shrugged.

“I am going to have _so many_ words with that little fucker…” Geoff said, running a hand through his hair.

“Woof,” said Jeremy with a sly grin.

 

“God, this fuck is _heavy_ ,” Michael moaned as they slid the unconscious dog out of the van and carted him towards the door Caleb was holding open. They deposited him as gently as possible on the metal table in the clinic and stepped back as Caleb began examining the poor animal.

“Okay. Dog taken care of. Let’s go-”

“Gavin - fetch a bucket of hot water from that sink and bring over some sponges,” Caleb said, cutting Geoff off. Gavin hastened to the sink. After a moment, Jeremy followed, grabbing the sponges.

“Michael, bring over that foil blanket - he’s freezing.”

Michael grabbed the blanket and draped it over the shivering animal. Jack moved over to the table to watch Caleb’s examination.

“Really?” Geoff heaved a frustrated sigh.

Gavin tottered over with a steaming bucket and he and he and Jeremy began rinsing away the worst of the mud and muck. Caleb instructed them to clean his non-broken leg first. When they had finished, he got out a set of electric clippers and shaved a spot in which to inject some sedatives and give a blood transfusion. He then inserted an IV.

“He’s extremely malnourished. I’m surprised he’s not dead from the blood-loss, cold - or even just the shock. He’s definitely a fighter. Just look at the rest of the scars on him. All over his muzzle, his ears - his neck is so scarred from being chained up.”

Geoff sat in one of the waiting chairs.

“I hope you fuckers realise that we are not keeping this mongrel. Sure, we’ll let Caleb fix it up, but then it’s going straight to the pound. We are not keeping it in the penthouse.”

Jack raised an eyebrow in amusement as three pairs of puppy dog eyes turned on Geoff. The crew leader rolled his own, then proceeded to close them and pretend to take a nap.

They washed him quickly but thoroughly, the hot water doing wonders for the shivers that wracked the dog’s body. There was one bullet hole in the meat of his thigh, and another had scored a deep gash in the ruff at his neck.

“He’s lucky. They didn’t hit any of his organs,” said Caleb as he worked on cleaning and disinfecting the wounds. There was more fur shaved off and the bullet holes were stitched up before Caleb moved onto the broken leg. He took some x-rays and went off to get them developed in another room.

Gavin had grabbed another, fresh bucket of hot water and was cleaning the mud from the dog’s face.

“Wow… look at that. He’s not all black,” he said. The others moved around to see that once all the dirt was washed away, the huge dog had a set of curious white markings on his face. White was splashed across his face and muzzle, curling down over his lips. His surprisingly bright blue eyes were ringed in black.

“It looks kinda like a skull,” said Michael.

“I’ve never seen a dog with markings like that,” Jack said.

“I’ve never seen a dog like this full-stop,” said Jeremy. “What breed do you suppose he is?”

Caleb walked back in, x-rays in hand.

“He’s different than anything I’ve ever treated before. He’s bigger than a Great Dane, but not quite shaped like a German Shepherd, or an Alaskan Malamute. They’re bigger than  Huskies, but a similar shape. I don’t know… are you sure you guys didn’t just find a wolf?”

“Dude! He’s totally a wolf!” said Gavin, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ve seen wolves at the zoo. This guy is… way bigger. Like a dire-wolf,” said Jeremy.

“Dire-wolves don’t exist, idiot,” snapped Michael.

“Who’s a pretty little dire-wolf?” cooed Gavin, resting his hands on either side of the dog’s head.

“He’s not a fucking dire-wolf Gav. He’s probably a hybrid of some sort,” said Michael.

“Whatever. I think he’s beautiful,” said Gavin, refusing to drop the smile. He gasped. “He needs a name!”

“The dog does not need a name, because the dog is going to the pound, remember?” Geoff roared, snapping out of his ‘nap’.

“Geoff,” whined Gavin, somehow stretching the name to two syllables.

Jeremy’s hand went to his chin. “Yeah… it should be a cool name. Like Ghost from _Game of Thrones_.”

“It can’t be Ghost. Look at him, he’s black as night,” said Jack. “How about Ebony? That’s black.”

“Pft. Ebony’s a girly name. He can’t have that,” said Michael.

“He can have a more feminine name if he wants,” argued Jack.

Geoff continued to swear and gripe in the corner, but was being resolutely ignored by everyone.

“Storm,” suggested Jeremy. “Because we found him during the thunderstorm!”

“Eh. It’s okay. But kind of cliched,” said Michael.

They threw names back and forth for about an hour, but still couldn’t settle on anything. Caleb was now in the process of setting the dog’s foreleg in plaster.

Jack came over and sat down next to Geoff. The crew’s boss had become silent. His arms were folded and he was just glowering at the tiled floor.

“C’mon Geoff. You were talking about how recently you wanted more security in the penthouse,” Jack said.

“That didn’t mean, ‘Oh let’s adopt a monster dog!’”

“It’ll be fine. I’ve actually had a lot of experience with a handling service dogs,” Jack said. “I’ll be able to deal with him, no problem.”

Geoff harrumphed and looked away.

“Besides…” Jack said in a low voice, “When was the last time you saw Gavin this excited over something?”

Geoff glanced at the young Brit. He couldn’t deny that he’d noticed the genuine light in Gavin’s eyes as he petted the dog’s white muzzle. He’d been partners with the young man long enough to know when that smile was fake and plastered on, and when it was real. As of late, that real happiness had been few and far between. Geoff heaved a huge sigh.

“Fine…” he muttered.

Gavin turned to him with a grin and cheered. He leapt over to Geoff and caught him in a hug, gangly limbs flying everywhere.

“Ugh, okay, fine. Now get off, you bony prick,” muttered Geoff. The lad disentangled himself and trotted immediately back over to the dog.

“Nero,” said Michael.

“Hellhound,” said Jeremy.

“Now that’s just stupid. We’re not naming him after that trashy gang,” said Michael.

“What? And your suggestions are any better?”

Geoff let himself finally examine the dog. He pursed his lips.

“What about… Vagabond?” he said. The others turned to him.

“Huh. I kinda like it,” said Jeremy.

“Yeah. It suits him, weirdly,” said Michael, running his hands through the thick, dark fur.

“What made you suggest that one?” asked Jack.

Geoff stroked his moustache. “I dunno. He just kind of reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“Vagabond. It’s a good name,” said Jeremy, stroking the thick mane of fur too.

“I’m gonna name him Ryan,” said Gavin.

The rest of the crew groaned.

“Fuck you Gavin. You are not naming him Ryan. We just named him Vagabond,” said Michael.

“What is with you and naming things that are already named?” asked Geoff.

“What? ‘S a good name,” Gavin cried.

“It is not! That’s a person name! He’s a dog!” yelled Michael and stormed over to put Gavin in a headlock. The Brit squawked and giggled, flailing uselessly at Michael.

 

“Shush! I think he’s coming around!” hissed Michael. Immediately he was shoved out of the way as Jeremy and Gavin plastered themselves to the glass.

“Oi, you fuckers. Move! I wanna see too!” Michael said, shoving them back. Gavin laughed and allowed himself to be bullied into the tiniest corner of the window overlooking the garden courtyard of the Fake AH Crew’s building. They each had an apartment somewhere in the tower, along with the B-Team, and the rest was used for the storage of their _obscene_ amount of vehicles and their armoury. The penthouse was where they spent most of thier time though. The building had a hollow section in the centre, with many balconies and even a glass bottom pool looking down into a beautiful garden at the bottom. There was a new addition to the garden in the form of the biggest, most luxurious doghouse money could buy. Its current occupant was laying on his side, drooling quite heavily under the influence of the tranquilizers that had been administered before he’d brought back. The lads had wanted to be there when Vagabond finally woke up from sedation, but Jack had warned them off it.

“I know you all want to think that he’s some giant puppy that you can pet and play with immediately, but Geoff is right in this regard. You all saw him rip that Hellhound member to shreds. He has been trained to be a killer. If he wakes up and the first thing he sees is a human, he’s most likely to go nuts. It’s best if we let him wake up by himself. That way he can get his bearings and get used to his new environment. Then we can start slowly introducing ourselves to him, and get him used to our presence by degrees.” Jack’s explanation had been met with nods from Michael and Jeremy and a pout from Gavin.

“Look! Look! He’s waking up!” whispered Gavin.

Jack was standing behind the three lads, shaking his head with a slight smile on his face. To look at them gushing over their ‘new puppy’, you wouldn’t think that they were three of Achievement City’s most dangerous and wanted criminals.

Geoff ‘The Lazer’ Ramsey headed their crew and had gathered them all from their various walks of life. He was the unofficial King of AC; but tired eyed and moustached, he didn’t cut the most imposing figure at times. Many a rival crew leader had been confused upon the sight of the dishevelled, half-asleep man that had shambled into meets, bowtie loose, bottle of Jack Daniels in hand. But make no mistake, Ramsey had taken every inch of his city by blood and by fire. Cross him, and he will smile and joke and those crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes will crinkle, and then like a rattlesnake, you will find yourself with several rather fatal holes in your person.

Standing behind and slightly to the right of Geoff you will generally find one Jack Pattillo. Right hand man, driver of anything with a wheel and pedals and sometimes things without, pockets so full of keys that he jingles like St. Nick as he walks, and more-than-occasional baby-sitter of crew members who’ve had inordinate amounts of alcohol. If you’re causing trouble in Geoff’s city and you get a visit from Jack, be very afraid. He won’t be cold as he kills you; the smiles are really quite warm as he leaves you to bleed out on the oily floor of the abandoned hangar.

Jack and Geoff were paired up for only a few years before they realised they needed a little more help in certain fields. Not to be outstripped by rival gangs, they imported the best hacker they could find. He was highly recommended by allied gang Rooster Teeth - a young man by the name of Gavin David Free. What they picked up at the airport however, was the gangliest, oddest, most irritating human being on the planet. Oh, he was a whiz with the computers, able to whip up any fact, figure, or feed you asked for within seconds and made their lives incredibly easier, but Geoff’s want to hug him for his talents was balanced by his near constant instinct to try and strangle the Brit. Eventually though, Gavin had cracked the pairs’ armour and wriggled his way into the Fakes' hearts. Even look wrong at Gavin and you’re sure to find yourself tasting the barrel of Geoff’s, Jack’s, or even both’s pistols.

They first saw young Michael Vincent Jones on Youtube. His fiery temper matched his skill with explosives, weaponry, and basically anything else that fragmented into multiple pieces and was followed by large fireballs. Geoff had taken one look at the carnage the young lad had wreaked in his videos accompanied by the charming soundtrack of every curse word in the English language, and some foreign, and said “I want that one.”

Michael had been sceptical about moving to AC to do a job for the Fakes. He’d not really been involved with such an organised gang before. Jack had brought him back to the safehouse and he’d barely dropped his duffel bag when he was accosted by Gavin. The Brit had narrowed his eyes and stalked up to Michael as he stood in the hallway.

“Five hundred grand, but you have to either suck a dick, like get it all up in your mouth to completion - the dude jizzes on the back of your throat and everything, - or! You he gets to stick it in your butt and do you that way. Which would you pick?”

Michael stared blankly at this twig of a man, dressed jeans so skinny they looked painted on and gaudy gold sunglasses pushed up into outrageously messy hair. Jack rolled his eyes, hung up his keys and took Michael’s suitcase down the hall to the room that’d been prepared for him.

“I… uh. In the mouth, I guess?” Michael stammered eventually.

Gavin cheered and looped his arm around Michael's shoulders.

“See Geoff! This boy’s got some sense!”

“You’re fucking wrong!” Geoff’s voice cracked with every word as he leapt from the sofa and stormed towards the pair. Gavin made a noise - Michael could only describe it as a squawk - and attempted to hide behind the Jersey man. Geoff stopped short, staring at Michael.

“What’s with the monkey suit?” he asked.

Michael looked down at the blue suit he’d worn in an effort to make a good impression.

“I could say the same fuckin’ thing about you,” he said, gesturing to Geoff’s rumpled tuxedo. As soon as he did though, he felt his stomach drop into his shoes. Michael swallowed nervously as the Fake AH Crew’s boss looked him up and down again. He was dead. He was so dead. Five seconds and he’d blown this job. Ramsey was going to murder him and cut him up into little pieces and leave him in the bay.

“If you wanna wear suits, I’ll take you to my tailor. You’re already sweating swimming pools in that fucking thing. And blue’s not your colour,” Geoff said, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

Michael let out a breath in a chuckle.

“Fuck no I don’t want to wear a suit. I just thought this would be funny to turn up in,” he said.

Geoff laughed and wandered away.

“Nice, boy!” Gavin said.

Michael snorted.

“Boy?”

“Naw, _boi_ ,” said Gavin and Michael somehow immediately knew what the difference was.

“Michael, boi,” he said and held out his hand. The Brit shook it.

“Gavin, boi. So… in the mouth huh?”

Michael laughed. “Shut the fuck up,” he said and shoved Gavin. The gangly lad landed on the floor in a protesting heap. They were fast friends after that.

Jeremy was the last addition to their close knit group. They had a supporting cast of characters that also lived within the Fakes' Tower. Jeremy had been hired recently to help out with planning and logistics. When they felt they needed more firepower on a heist or a mission, he was one of the first they turned to as backup. He was a master of any weapon you gave him, and lethal even if you didn’t. Within the 5’ 4”, purple-and-orange-clothed package that was Jeremy Dooley, was a martial artist to be reckoned with. He’d truly earned his place within the main crew however when they’d been pinned down in a robbery.

Geoff, Gavin, Jack and Michael were stuck with a rapidly deteriorating wall between them and a street absolutely jammed with police cars. Matt was unable to get close enough to the city in his chopper, their getaway vehicles had been reduced to flaming wrecks, and Jack was holding his insides in with a hand and Geoff’s jacket. Geoff was screaming into his radio while Gavin and Michael provided what coverfire they could. The first thing that had reached their senses was the sound.

“What is that?” asked Michael, ducking down to reload.

“ _I’m on my way!_ ” they heard Jeremy yell back over the comms.

“Well hurry the fuck up!” Geoff screamed.

“ _Hurrying the fuck up!_ ” replied Jeremy.

“But, no, seriously, what the fuck is that noise?” Michael said. The four fell silent. Over the sharp retort of gunfire, the noise grew louder.

“It sounds like a trash compactor,” Gavin said, a finger to his chin, his eyes distant.

“ _Rimmy Tim to the rescue!_ ” bellowed a voice from the radio.

The four turned, jaws dropping open in shock as right over the tops of all of the police cruisers, came the biggest, most flamboyantly coloured monster truck any of them had ever laid eyes on. Its immense weight crushed everything in its path. It roared up and bounced to a halt. The gunfire slowed as cops either turned and fled, or stopped to stare also. A white cowboy hat peered out and down at them.

“Somebody order a rescue mission, extra cheese?”

“You devious little motherfucker!” roared Geoff leaping up and scrambling up the side of the truck.

“Lil J!” shouted Gavin. The rest of the crew followed, crowing and cheering. Once they were all in the truck, Jeremy took off, the hydraulics making them sway about alarmingly. The blockade of police cars was no issue when you could just _drive over them_.

“I’m getting five of these babies for our next bank heist!” Geoff yelled, slapping the roof.

“Oh my god Geoff, can we please race them up Chilliad?” said Gavin, bouncing up and down in Jack’s lap in the passenger seat. Jack groaned and tightened his hold on his stomach.

“By the way - the fuck is Rimmy Tim?” asked Michael, laughing as he hung off the side of the monster truck. Jeremy turned a bright shade of pink. It clashed terribly with his orange and purple attire.

 

Jack muscled his way forward so he could get a good view too. The huge dog blinked groggily. It took him a few tries to finally keep his eyes open. Then another few tries to lift his head. The four crew watched him look around in confusion.

“Aw… poor thing. He doesn’t know where he is,” said Gavin.

Vagabond tried to stand, but collapsed again with a yelp. He looked down at the cast on his leg.

“That reminds me. I’ll get him some food. He’ll need to take the painkillers Caleb left for him,” said Jack and he hurried off.

Vagabond struggled to his feet again, this time trying to avoid putting weight on the injured limb. He limped slowly from the kennel, looking every which way. He paused, bending down to sniff at the lush, green, manicured lawn. He continued looking around, hobbling towards the pond, which had a little waterfall trickling down very naturally arranged rocks. He sniffed the water too, before giving it a cautious lap. This small effort seemed to exhaust the dog and he flopped down again, looking up at the tropical trees and panting. His ears pricked at the sound of metal scraping. Even from this distance, the lads could see his black nose twitch. The dog heaved himself up and staggering towards the source of the scent. Jack had thought ahead for this and installed a genius retractable bowl system in one of the doors to the courtyard. Vagabond wolfed down the tiny bit of wet dog food that was drenched in gravy, and probably had a few painkillers and a worming tablet hidden in it. Even though they desperately wanted to give him more immediately, they would have to wait a short while before giving him more food. To feed him all at once with his level of malnutrition, he’d probably eat it way too fast and make himself sick. After ten minutes or so, Jack retracted the bowl, added more food and pushed it back through. Vagabond fell on the meal again. They did this for about an hour. By that time, Michael and Jeremy had drifted away, their curiosity and concern now sated. Only Gavin was left, sitting in the window sill, watching as Vagabond slowly ate. It was nearly dark before Jack finished feeding him. The poor dog fell asleep with his head resting in the retractable bowl, his belly distended from the amount of food he’d been given. Gavin couldn’t help but giggle.

 

The slow feeding system continued for about a week. When Vagabond no longer fell on his food like he was dying of starvation, he was allowed to be fed all in one go.

“He’s already looking so much better than when we first brought him in,” said Gavin. The other two lads were enthused about having a new pet, but Gavin was the most concerned about the dog’s welfare and recovery.

“When can we finally start ‘introducing’ ourselves?” Gavin turned to Jack. The bearded man was putting a half can of dog food back in the fridge. He washed his hands and turned to Gavin.

“Soon buddy. But it’ll only be me at first,” he said.

“Aw, why you? I wanna say hello to him,” Gavin said.

Jack shook his head. “I know you do. But he’s still pretty dangerous. We don’t yet know how he will react to people. I’ll have to be wearing full protective gear when I go in there,” Jack said.

“What? Like the suits they wear when they train police dogs?”

“That’s the stuff,” replied Jack.

Gavin pouted again, but nodded. “If you think that’s best.”

 

The first ‘introduction’ did not go well to say the least. Jack had bundled himself up in one of the thickly padded training suits he’d acquired and rapped on the courtyard door to announce his presence. When he stepped out into the garden, Vagabond, who’d been napping by the shore of the pond, leapt up immediately began growling. His hackles were raised and his teeth were bared in a vicious snarl. This was very similar to his behaviour whenever someone appeared in the foyer beyond the glass wall on the north side of the garden. It was an extremely lovely view to look in on when entering the building, but lately, most new folks had been scared off by the dog the size of a bear throwing himself at the glass in an attempt to get at them. After a few days of this, they’d hastily covered up the windows on the foyer side with some taped on butcher’s paper.

Jeremy, Gavin and Michael shoved and squabbled behind the courtyard door, each attempting to get a good look at Jack and Vagabond through the little glass window. Vagabond’s ears were pinned back, his bright blue eyes narrowed. Jack had one arm up in front of him - this was the most padded area. If Vagabond were to attack and try to go for his throat, the arm would be there to stop him. In his other hand, Jack held a large strip of steak. He waved this enticingly. Vagabond’s eyes flickered towards the movement. Jack threw the strip towards the dog. Vagabond flinched, and continued snarling. Jack backed up a few steps. Vagabond’s attention was now torn between the man and the meat. He slunk forward slowly, looking graceful despite the clunky cast still on his leg. He snatched up the strip of steak and turned and fled. The lads watched him crouch behind a boulder and devour it. He licked his chops when he was done.

“Vaaaga-bond,” called Jack. “I have more of that if you want it.”

The dog’s ears pinned themselves back and he took up that deep, threatening snarl again. He stalked back towards Jack. Blue eyes flickered again between the treat in Jack’s gloved hand and Jack himself. Jack tossed the meat and Vagabond took it after a moment, retreating again to eat it. This cycle repeated again for another good half an hour. When Jack had finally run out of meat, Vagabond still hadn’t shown any decrease in hostility. The lads saw Jack sigh in his giant suit. He turned and headed back to the door. Vagabond had just finished off his last snack and had slunk back towards Jack. His eyes seemed to light up with something wild and dangerous as soon as the man had turned his back.

“Jack! Look out!” bellowed Michael.

Jack turned, confused, and the dog was upon him. Huge teeth clamped around the thickly padded arm, ripping and tearing and dragging Jack down onto the ground.

“Jack!” cried Gavin. The sound of padding being shredded was horrific.

“What do we do? We have to help him!”

“We can’t go in there! Vagabond will probably eat us! We don’t have any protection!”

Gavin dashed off.

“Where the fuck is he going?” yelled Michael.

“What the shit is going on?” Geoff came thundering up the corridor.

“Nothing!” said Jeremy, blocking the door.

“I, uh,” said Michael, looking from Geoff to the door and back. Geoff paused for a moment before the ripping, tearing noise finally reached his ears.

“Where’s Jack?”

The two lads just stared at him. Geoff’s eyes widened.

“ _Is he in there with that monster?_ ” Geoff demanded.

Michael swallowed guiltily and Jeremy looked pale.

“Out of the way! Move it!” Geoff shouted, shoving both men against the wall. He reached behind him and drew out a gun.

“If that thing has hurt Jack, I’m going to put a bullet through it’s skull!” he bellowed. He reached the door and grasped the handle, ready to go out and kill the beast trying to shred Jack into dog treats. He paused however. Outside, Jack was still on the ground on his back. He was no longer being attacked though. Across the garden, Geoff could see Gavin through the reception area glass wall. He had sprinted around to the other side of the building and torn off some of the paper so he could be seen. He was currently hollering and waving his arms, dancing about in a completely idiotic fashion. It was working though. Vagabond’s attention had successfully been diverted from eating Jack. Said crew member had recovered enough to stumble to his feet and wrench open the door. He stumbled into Geoff who slammed it after him. There was a thud and a scratching and snarling as soon as it was closed. They looked out to see Vagabond attempting to claw his way through the door.

“I’m going to fucking kill that mutt,” growled Geoff. He reached for the door handle again. Jack swatted his hands away, panting heavily.

“Geoff - don’t. It’s okay. I’m okay - he didn’t hurt me,” Jack said.

“ _Hurt you? He was trying to turn you into mince meat!_ ”

“But he didn’t. He didn’t even scratch me. If anything, that was totally my fault. I should have remembered. I shouldn’t have turned my back on him. Predatory instincts obviously kicked in. Pretty dumb of me really,” Jack said.

They heard a snarl and the clawing at the door stopped. Jack and Geoff saw Vagabond slink back towards the pond. Geoff was still breathing hard. Jack dragged him away from the door.

“Seriously Geoff. I’m fine. I actually expected this to happen at some point. That’s what the protective suit is for. Any dog that’s been abused to his level will take quite awhile to get adjusted to humans again,” Jack said.

Geoff grunted and shook Jack’s hand off his shoulder. He switched the safety back on his gun and shoved it back in his waistband. He glowered at Jack.

“If that beast hurts even a hair on the lads’ heads, I will personally put a lead slug between its fucking eyes,” he bit. He turned and stormed away.

Jack sighed and let his shoulders slump. Jeremy came up and patted his shoulder.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked. Michael sidled up too, looking pale and concerned.

“I’m fine,” Jack said. He took off his helmet and glasses. “I might have a few bruises, but I’ll be right as rain.”

Gavin appeared and threw himself at Jack, wrapping him in a hug. The bigger man stumbled slightly and chuckled.

“I hope you didn’t hurt him when you shoved him off,” Gavin mumbled.

Jack laughed and hugged Gavin back.

“Trust you to be more worried about the dog than me,” he said.

“Course I’m worried about you, you sausage, but Ryan’s the one with the broken leg,” replied Gavin.

“I didn’t hurt him. He’s fine. We may have to wait a few more weeks before trying that again though. It was obviously much too soon,” Jack said. He swept a hand through sweaty hair. The three lads nodded morosely.


	3. "Speak"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…
> 
> \---
> 
> Vagabond learns to like people and then abuses his puppy-dog-eyes abilities.

Weeks went by and Vagabond continued to look healthier. His coat was glossy and black, the white markings on his face standing out in startling contrast. He filled out now that he was being properly fed. Muscle returned to his lanky frame, making him look even bigger than he had previously, which was a feat considering he was still the biggest dog any of the crew had ever seen.

Jack had not yet attempted to go into the garden again. Gavin had pestered him about it, wanting to continue in the dog’s rehabilitation, but Jack had come up with plenty of excuses.

_ He has good reasons not to _ , thought Gavin as he sat in the window, staring down at Vagabond.  _ He is pretty scary after all. I understand his not wanting to go back in there after what happened. _

Gavin sighed. When this caused condensation to form on the glass, he drew a penis and smiled. Down in the garden, Vagabond was pacing. Gavin had watched him do this a lot from his high window perch. He wasn’t sure why the dog did it, but his heart ached for the animal. It couldn’t be fun cooped up in the garden, no matter how nice it was. It was still quite small for a dog his size. One could barely stretch one’s legs. Gavin bit his lip. He wasn’t quite sure why he was so hung up on the dog. Geoff did not like him at all. Jeremy and Michael had pretty much completely lost interest in him. Jack too now only seemed to want to feed him and then be done with him. It was just that ever since Gavin had first seen him in that muddy little yard, chained and snarling, something had tickled at the back of his mind. There was something different about Vagabond, or Ryan as he liked to call the dog. He tapped his chin. If no one could go in the yard safely, maybe he could try a different method.

 

“Ry-aaaaan,” he called softly.

The dog’s ears pricked up. He twisted his head this way and that, looking for the source of the sound. Even from here, Gavin could hear the deep, threatening rumble in the animal’s chest.

“Ry!” he called again.

The huge dog finally looked up. Gavin had situated himself on the lowest balcony that hung out over the courtyard garden. Vagabond got up and stalked over. He stared up at Gavin, snarling and baring his teeth.

“Oh, don’t be like that, you mong. I brought you treats. Don’t you want a treat?” he said. Gavin reached behind him. He was laying on his front, his head stuck between the black, powder coated railings. He drew out a nice steak strip. He waved it for a second before letting it drop. It landed directly on Vagabond’s face. Gavin laughed as the dog yelped in shock and shook himself. He eyed Gavin. If the Brit didn’t know any better, he’d say the look the dog gave him was almost reproachful. Quickly though, the morsel was caught up and gobbled down. Vagabond returned to growling at him. He was however, drooling now.

“C’mon dude. I’m trying to be nice here. This delicious, rare,  _ expensive _ steak, and all you can do is growl at me?”

The growling only increased in volume. Gavin sighed.

“Fine, here. Have some more,” he said and threw another strip down. Vagabond wolfed it down. He looked up again.

“Oh? More you say? Okay.” Another slice. Vagabond continued to growl, but Gavin continued to prattle on.

“This is really rude of you, you know. Here I am, feeding you a lovely steak dinner, and you won’t even talk to me properly,” Gavin said.

_ Snarl _ .

“See? Look at that. Absolutely no manners. You must have been raised in a barn. This is quality meat you know. It would go well with a nice red wine.”

_ Growl _ .

“And when I say expensive, I mean  _ expensive _ . It cost me a lot of money. And when I was it cost  _ me _ a lot of money, I mean it cost  _ Geoff  _ a lot of money. This was in the fridge for dinner. Geoff’s probably going to go mental when he finds out I fed it to the lovely puppy.”

_ Growling _ .

“That’s you, you know. You’re a lovely puppy. Lovely Ryan!” Gavin cried, throwing down another steak strip.

 

Geoff did indeed ‘go mental’ when his porterhouse steak was found missing. Gavin did not let up though. He continued to nick prime cuts of meats and was more often than not found on that low balcony just talking to Vagabond, even if he didn’t have food on him.

The day that Vagabond stopped growling upon sighting Gavin made the lad grin broadly. He continued though, as if nothing had changed. He just kept talking. He asked stupid questions that went unanswered. He prattled on about science and cameras. He even read to the dog, reciting articles that took his fancy from his phone.

Gavin eventually felt safe enough to move lower. One day, Vagabond woke up to find the young man sitting across the garden from him. He’d made a small hole in the paper covered window, just enough for him to look through while lounging on a giant tan beanbag. Vagabond was hesitant at this new development. His ears were half flat as he walked slowly towards the glass.

“Hey buddy!” said Gavin waving at him.

Vagabond stopped about ten metres away. He narrowed his eyes. He laid down, putting his side towards Gavin.

“Hey, that’s okay. I can understand you need space Ry. Oh! Hey! Check this out! They’re doing all sorts of cool new tests with self driving cars. Man, I hope they come to Achievement City soon. It’ll be cool to not have to take a cab anywhere when the Blista is in the shop, or get one of the others to drive me…”

Gavin smiled to himself as he saw the dog’s ears flick towards him, no longer flattened against his skull.

 

“ _ Geoff… Geoff, come here. Watch this _ ,” Jack whispered.

“Huh?” The moustached man ambled over to the window.

“Look…” Jack pointed down into the garden.

Vagabond was laid down in the grass, head up, ears forward. He was mere feet away from the glass window. They could just see Gavin on the other side of the tinted glass, gesticulating wildly. A bright white rectangle was pressed up against the window. Vagabond leaned forward a little, as if trying to see what was on the phone’s screen before Gavin took it away again, continuing to wave his arms about enthusiastically. Jack laughed.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he said.

Geoff shook his head. “I always knew Gavin would be the first of us to go mad,” he said with a smirk.

 

Jack approached the lad slowly. 

“Gavin…” he called.

Gavin turned to see Jack in the hallway, hiding from Vagabond’s line of sight. Gavin grinned.

“It’s cool, huh?” he said.

Jack smiled broadly too. “It’s amazing,” he said. “You’ve just been talking to him all this time?”

“Yep. You said he had to get used to human contact, so I thought, what better way to do that?”

“Do you think that I could come sit over there too? Do you think he’d get scared?”

Gavin pursed his lips and shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

Jack got to his knees and shuffled forwards slowly. It took a few seconds for Vagabond to notice the other man. When he did, his ears flattened and he raised himself slightly.

“Hey Ry - it’s okay buddy,” Gavin said soothingly. “This is Jack. You’ve met him before. Do you remember?”

And Jack was damned if the dog didn’t pause and cock his head at Jack as if he was considering the question.

“Hey, yeah, it’s me. I’m Jack,” Jack said. He looked at Gavin who nodded encouragingly.

“What do you talk to him about?”

“Everything. Anything I feel like. I treat him like a normal person,” Gavin said.

“Er, okay then,” Jack said.

“He likes it when I talk about video games,” Gavin said. He turned to the window. “Don’t you buddy? We’ve been playing a lot of Overwatch recently. It’s like this first person shooter game that has all different classes and what not.” Gavin looked pointedly at Jack. Jack looked from Gavin to the dog and back.

“Talk to him,” Gavin said.

“About video games?” Jack asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Sure, why not?”

“Because it’s weird. He’s a dog,” Jack said.

Vagabond’s ears were now fully down and he was beginning to draw his lips back over his teeth.

“You have to treat him like he’s another person in the conversation,” Gavin said softly. “Y’know, even though he can’t talk back.”

Jack stared at him, mouth open a little.

“You wanna know what class Jack prefers to play in Overwatch?” Gavin said, turning back to Vagabond. “Tell him what you play, Jack.”

“Uh… I uh, play a character called Mercy, mainly,” replied Jack. Gavin rolled his eyes.

“I already know what you play, dummy. Tell  _ him  _ that,” he said, nodding at the window.

Feeling foolish, Jack turned towards the widow and began explaining the mechanics of the game to the dog. To his surprise, Vagabond stopped growling. His ears perked up again. He lay back down on the grass, his attention on Jack. Those blue eyes switched between Gavin and Jack, depending on who was speaking. It really was like having a conversation, except one of the participants was mute.

 

Slowly, everyone was roped into ‘talking’ with Vagabond. Michael and Jeremy and even some of the B-Team were seen having protracted arguments about this or that, perched on beanbags at the window, Vagabond sitting calmly on the other side. They didn’t need the covering for the window anymore. Vagabond was no longer agitated to vicious levels by strangers walking through the foyer.

Finally Jack decided it was time to try the training suit again. Geoff insisted that he be there this time, observing from the balcony. 

“Geoff, you gotta promise you won’t shoot him, Geoff,” Gavin said worriedly, hanging off the tattooed man’s arm as Jack donned the many pieces of the padded suit.

“I bloody well will shoot him if he attacks Jack again!”

“Geoff! You can’t! He’s come so far! Please, promise you won’t shoot him. You might accidentally shoot Jack too,” Gavin wheedled.

“He has a point,” Jack said, pulling on the mask.

Geoff sighed.

“I’m not gonna shoot anyone if I don’t have to,” he said.

Gavin fixed the older man with a glare.

“You better not,” he said and flounced off to plop into his beanbag at the window. Vagabond was there, ears perked eagerly for some conversation. Geoff shook his head and walked over to the lift.

When he was in position on the balcony, Geoff gestured to where he knew Jack was standing behind the courtyard door. A loud knocking sounded through the courtyard. They had agreed this was probably the best way of letting Vagabond know that someone was coming in, so as not surprise him. The dog whipped around, staring cautiously at the door. Jack opened it slowly and stepped inside the garden. Vagabond was up in a flash, but he stayed by the window.

“Hey, Vagabond, buddy, it’s Jack,” Jack said softly, taking very slow steps forward.

This was vastly different from the last time the two had been ins the same space together. Vagabond wasn’t even growling. Jack pulled out a steak strip. Vagabond licked his lips.

“Here you go,” Jack said, tossing it onto the grass in the middle of the garden. He moved back. Vagabond looked from Jack, to the strip, and back again. He trotted slowly over to the steak strip. He paused as he reached it, then looked back at Gavin. The young Brit laughed. He nodded at Vagabond and pointed at the steak. The dog turned back and gobbled up the treat. He didn’t run away and try to hide while eating. This was a completely different animal.

Jack dropped more meaty morsels, still moving back after each one, but a little less each time. Eventually, he and Vagabond were just a few metres apart. The dog seemed cautious, but not hostile at all. Throughout the whole process, Jack had kept up a conversation with him. Jack took it one step further now. Slowly, he lowered himself until he was crouching on the grass. He held a treat out tentatively, and tossed it into the middle ground between the two of them. Vagabond considered the situation, ears flicking back and forwards a few times, but then stepped daintily forward. He bent down and ate the meat. Jack held out another piece, still talking gently, his words lulling in the peacefulness of the garden. Jack saw Vagabond’s nostrils flare. Drool was dropping from the dog’s chops. Ever so slowly, Vagabond approached. Jack held still, still just talking, telling him about his day, what he had for breakfast, the shopping trip he and the lads had been on. Vagabond stretched out his neck, and gingerly took the meat from Jack’s upturned palm. He laid down slowly and chewed. When he looked back up, Jack held out empty hands.

“Sorry, buddy. Meat’s all gone. We can still sit and talk if you want?” Jack said.

The dog continued to watch him. Jack lowered himself so he could sit cross legged on the grass and they did just that. Up above, Geoff let out a breath and took his hand off his gun.

 

Several hours passed before Jack got up and began backing slowly towards the courtyard door. Vagabond cocked his head, got up too and followed.

“Sorry buddy, I gotta go now. I have my own dinner to make and eat,” Jack said as he reached the door. He opened it and slipped through backwards. He was met with a furious hug on the other side.

“You did so well!” cooed Gavin, strangling Jack around his midsection. Jack laughed and ruffled the lad’s hair as he took off his helmet.

“Yeah, thanks to you,” he said. “I never would have believed he’d be so calm.”

There was a soft scratching noise and a sad whine. They both turned to look at the door.

“Aw, poor thing,” Gavin said, rushing to the door and looking out the window. Jack laughed again and joined him.

“If anything, I’d take that as a good sign. If he’s suddenly pining for human contact, instead of outright rejecting it, that’s a great improvement.”

 

Vagabond continued to improve in leaps and bounds. Pretty soon Jack was able to enter the yard without the protective suit. Gavin was thrilled when he was finally allowed in too, along with Michael and Jeremy. The four sat around together, lazing in the grass beside the pond, chatting and just hanging out with Vagabond. The dog lapped up the company. Gavin was the first one he allowed to pet him.

 

Vagabond and Gavin seemed inseparable. Whenever the lad was at the tower, it was guaranteed that he’d be down in the garden. Now that Vagabond had learnt that people weren’t threats to him, Gavin had moved onto teaching him some ‘normal dog’ things. Much to Michael and Jeremy’s amusement, Vagabond didn’t really do ‘normal dog’.

Gavin brandished the rope toy. There was about a dozen other assorted toys scattered in the grass around the Brit, having been discarded when Vagabond showed complete disinterest in them. 

“Ryyyan!” Gavin cooed, waggling the toy at where the huge dog sat in the grass. Vagabond was lazing in the sunshine, the bright light making his white, skull-like face markings practically glow.

“Here! Doesn’t this look fun? C’mon… Come play with the rope!”

Jeremy and Michael were sitting in the shade of the trees near the pond. Michael was chuckling at his crew-mate’s attempts to cajole the dog into playing.

“Fine? Don’t like the rope? What about…” Gavin tossed the striped rope aside and looked around. He snatched up a magenta-coloured tennis ball.

“What about a ball? Dogs love balls! Look Ry!” Gavin tossed the ball from hand to hand. He waved it again and then threw it gently underhand. It bounced and rolled over, coming to rest against Vagabond’s paw. Vagabond looked at the ball, then at Gavin, and then got gracefully to his feet. He put his nose in the air and wandered over to sit by Michael and Jeremy instead. This caused Michael’s giggles to turn into full blown laughter. Gavin cursed. He walked over to the box of toys and other gear they’d bought for Vagabond.

“There’s gotta be something in here that the stuck up prick likes!” he moaned.

“Face it Gav. Vagabond is too cool to play with you. Look at him. He’s sitting all refined and shit with his legs crossed,” said Jeremy.

Vagabond gave a low woof as if in agreement. Gavin ignored them and continued to root through the box.

“Oh, hey!” he said. “I totally forgot we bought this too!”

He pulled something out and hid it behind his back as he approached Vagabond.

“Look buddy! We got it just for you!” From behind his back, Gavin revealed an expensive dark blue leather collar with gold coloured studs. Hanging from it was a gold tag in the shape of a skull. On one side was engraved  _ Vagabond _ , and on the other, was the Fake AH Crew’s logo. Gavin held it out to Vagabond with a grin. The dog balked. He leapt to his feet, snapping and snarling. Gavin squawked and stumbled backwards, falling into the pond. Jeremy and Michael let out similar cries of alarms and scrambled up the rocks of the waterfall. Vagabond stalked towards Gavin, the terrible snarls still issuing from his throat.

“Ryan? Ryan, what did I do wrong, Ryan? Please… p-please don’t…” Gavin stammered. He was backing slowly into deeper water, his arms held up in front of him, hands splayed as if that could stop the dog if it decided to lunge. Gavin was breathing hard, eyes darting from side to side, trying to find an escape route.

“Gavin, you moron! The collar! Get rid of it!” yelled Jeremy.

Gavin’s eyes widened and he glanced at the leather collar still in his grasp. He hefted it and tossed it into the deepest part of the pond. It splashed into the water and sunk out of sight. Vagabond watched it vanish. The great dog blinked and seemed to shake himself. He looked at the boys who were still perched on their rock, and then back at Gavin who was standing, dripping in the pond. Vagabond stared at him sadly. His ears were still pinned back, but he was silent and no longer hostile. He turned and slunk away.

Gavin splashed out of the pool and the other two scrambled down off the water feature.

“Well. That was a close one,” said Jeremy. He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, looking off in the direction that Vagabond had gone. There was a slight tremor in his voice.

“What the toss was that about then?” Gavin said.

Jeremy gave him a scathing look.

“What?” Gavin asked.

“If you’d been chained up, beaten and starved for who knows how many years, you’d probably object to having something around your neck again.”

Michael and Gavin looked grimly at each other.

 

The collar incident aside - which was mysteriously not spoken of to Geoff - Vagabond had calmed down completely. They didn’t even have to sedate him when Caleb came around to check on his leg and finally take the cast off. Gavin and Jack were with the two through the whole process, talking gently. Gavin had a hand resting on the dog’s shoulder blade; Vagabond did not mind the contact, but too much petting would make him get up and move away.

The plaster fell to the ground. Vagabond’s dark fur had grown back underneath it, but the shaving lines were still sort of visible. Vagabond sniffed the cast. The three humans moved away.

“Hey Ryan! You’re all fixed now. Try and stand on it,” Gavin said.

Vagabond pulled himself to his feet, the newly freed limb held gingerly off the ground. The big dog shook his head and put the leg down decisively. They watched him lean on it experimentally and then take a few steps.

“Good boy!” Gavin called, clapping his hands.

Vagabond crouched slightly. The muscles and sinew bunched under his glossy coat and then, like a drag racer, he took off. Jack and Caleb cried out in alarm as the dog bolted across the grass. He curved around, dashing along the perimeter of the garden and lapping it in seconds. He did this several more times. Gavin was beaming when the dog skidded to a halt, panting and grinning in front of him. Gavin cocked his head. This was the first time he’d ever seen Vagabond wag his tail.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” said Caleb and picked up his gear.

“Thanks for the help. I know it was an unusual job,” said Jack, following him out of the garden. Caleb waved it off.

“It was actually quite pleasant to have an animal patient again. They complain far less…”

Gavin sat down and continued to watch Vagabond frolic around in the grass. The dog turned to him and wandered over.

“Feels good to have use of all legs back, huh?” asked Gavin.

Vagabond headbutted him and huffed. He chewed at his leg. Gavin laughed.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve had plenty of casts too. Trust me, I know how itchy they get.”

Gavin petted him and then playfully poked him in the side. Vagabond looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. Gavin sniggered and poked the dog again. He then swallowed nervously, not liking the sly look that came into the dog’s eyes. Before he knew it, Vagabond had headbutted him again, shoving him over where he sat in the grass. Gavin squawked and flailed, trying to sit up. Vagabond rumbled and stood over him, huge paws pinning the lad’s chest to the ground.

“Oh, so this is how you like to play then?” Gavin laughed and reached up to poke him again. Vagabond pulled his lips back over his teeth, but there was no malice in the gesture. Gavin jerked and wriggled, somehow managing to slip out from under the giant dog’s weight. He rolled and scrambled to his feet. Vagabond spun and bounded after him, still growling playfully. Gavin shrieked as the dog barrelled into his legs, knocking them out from underneath him. He dropped into a roll and then was up again, dashing across the grass. He glanced over his shoulder to see Vagabond galumphing after him, a huge, dopey grin on his face.

 

Months passed. Someone left the courtyard door open one day and Vagabond followed them up into the penthouse and refused to be evicted. Geoff complained at volume about the black dog hair that was bound to get on everything, but no one had the heart to remove Vagabond after witnessing him throw himself onto the huge, plush couch and roll around, crooning happily. Gavin laughed and sat down with him.

“You’re right, it is a really comfy couch now that you mention it,” he said to the dog.

Vagabond sat up and looked at him, snorting. The dog’s gaze wandered and he hopped off the couch. He walked over to the huge glass windows overlooking Achievement City.

“Great view too,” Gavin said, joining him. “Hey! Do you want a tour of the penthouse?”

Vagabond looked up at him and cocked his head.

“C’mon. I’ll show you the place,” said Gavin, beckoning him. Jeremy and Michael watched in amusement from the kitchen as Gavin led the dog around and showed him each room. For his part, Vagabond stopped at the doorway of each, examined it politely, and then followed Gavin to the next. He stopped when they reached the main bathroom. Each bedroom in the penthouse had an ensuite of course, but the main one was a sight to behold with its giant whirlpool tub and the dozens of fluffy white towels. Vagabond let out a low, piteous whine and trotted inside. Gavin laughed and followed him.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Geoffrey had it redone recently. All the gold fixings and stuff was at my request. Makes it look classy, huh?”

Vagabond ignored him and walked over to the toilet.

“Uh - no drinking out of there,” said Gavin, running over and shutting the lid. The look Vagabond gave him was nothing but scathing. For a dog, he sure had the most expressive eyebrows.

“Yeah. I know. Of course you wouldn’t. Silly of me to presume,” said Gavin, turning pink.

Vagabond snuffled and continued looking around. His gaze fell on the sink. Before Gavin could try to stop him, he had reared back on his hind legs and placed them on the edge of the basin. Standing like this, he was taller than Gavin by a head.

“Whoa big guy. You all right there?”

Vagabond just stared into the mirror. 

“I hope you know that’s not another dog,” Gavin said nervously. He swore Vagabond rolled his eyes at that. He stared at his reflection for a few more minutes, then gave a huff and hopped down. He headed for the whirlpool tub and stepped daintily into it. Gavin laughed as the dog stared at the taps.

Vagabond looked over at him with round eyes.

“What?”

Vagabond looked at him, then the taps, then back again.

“Do you want to… have a bath?” Gavin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Vagabond pawed at the knobs and whined again. Gavin sniggered and strode forwards to turn them on. Soon, the room was full of steam and the tub was filling quickly. Vagabond had shoved his whole head under the stream of hot water, a blissful look on his face that just made Gavin laugh more.

“Hang on. I know when we bought all your new stuff we threw some dog shampoo in there somewhere. I’ll go grab it and we can give you a proper wash,” Gavin said and ran out of the bathroom.

“What the fuck are the two of you doing in the bathroom?” Michael called from the kitchen.

“Ryan wanted a bath!” Gavin crowed and began rooting through some drawers.

“...he wanted a bath?”

“Yep!”

“The dog  _ wanted _ a bath?”

“How is that so hard for you to understand Michael?”

“All my fucking life, I have never heard of a dog who  _ liked _ a bath,” he said. “This I have to see for myself. He strode to the bathroom door, followed by a curious Jeremy.

 

Geoff found the four later, still in the bathroom, soapsuds and water everywhere. Vagabond was still in the tub, head resting on the edge, eyes closed in happiness. Michael was perched on the closed toilet, Jeremy on the bench next to the sink, and Gavin was sitting on the floor next to the tub, massaging Vagabond’s ears. They’d long since finished giving him a good scrub, but the dog had simply refused to get out of the warm water. They were arguing lightheartedly about werewolves.

Geoff stared for a few minutes.

“I don’t fuckin’ wanna know,” he said, turning around and walking away.

 

It was around dinnertime when they finally convinced Vagabond to get out of the tub. The three lads rubbed him dry. He then followed them to the lounge room where they turned on the Xbox and began playing splitscreen Battlefield. After a few minutes of investigating the Xbox console and the controllers in their hands with his nose and effectively blocking the screen with his huge bulk, they got him to sit on the couch and let them play. The dog seemed to enjoy watching them play immensely, boofing softly during tense firefights. When arguments broke out, he joined in, howling and barking softly. Gavin shoved him playfully and he responded by nosing the lad and pinning him down with just the weight of his head. 

Jack arrived home an hour later, laden with bags of Chinese takeaway. The Xbox suddenly forgotten, the lads vaulted over the back of the couch and crowded around the kitchen bench. There was a moment in which the four paused and stared. Vagabond had followed them again and was now attempting to climb onto the nearest dining room chair. He finally managed to get all four huge paws onto the leather seat, rotated a little, and sat down. He looked at them as if to say “What?”

They all burst into laughter. The noise drew Geoff from his office. He groaned when he saw Vagabond perched ridiculously on the chair.

“The dog is  _ not _ sitting at the table,” he said.

Jeremy laughed. “I think you’ll find that he  _ is _ .”

“Smartass,” muttered Geoff. “Let me rephrase that. I will not allow the dog to sit at the dining room table.”

Jeremy, Gavin and Jack just looked at him.

“Well, if you wanna move him, be our guest,” Michael said, gesturing to the giant dog.

Geoff just glared at them all, then walked over and began doling himself out some food. The rest followed suit and sat down around the table. Gavin of course sat himself directly beside Vagabond. There were dozens of muffled sniggers as Geoff began to eat, steadfastly ignoring the way Vagabond stared longingly at his food. Shoelaces of drool were beginning to droop from his chops. He turned to Gavin, giving him huge puppy dog eyes again. Gavin laughed and got up. He went to the kitchen and grabbed another plate.

“Gavin. No. You will not - I forbid it! You will not - do not bring that over here! The dog is not eating at the fucking table…” Geoff petered off as Gavin, grinning broadly, brought the plate over, piled high with chicken. He placed it in front of Vagabond. The dog nosed him and then dug in.

“All you fuckers better get this into your heads - this is not going to become a regular occurrence. The dog will be going back outside tonight!”

 

Vagabond stayed in the penthouse that night. Gavin had expected the giant hound to want to come sleep at the foot of his bed. To his surprise, when they all headed off to bed, he observed the dog find his way into one of the few unoccupied bedrooms he’d shown him that day. Gavin followed him in. Vagabond looked up at him from where he’d curled up on top of the covers. Gavin opened his mouth, finger raised uncertainty.

“Did you… did you want me to get the blankets for you?” he asked. 

Vagabond got up off the bed and looked at Gavin expectantly.

“Alright then,” said the Brit. He crossed the room and drew back the blankets. Vagabond gave a little hop and strolled over to the middle of the bed. Gavin giggled as the dog sniffed it, turned around a few times, and then lay down. He tucked the covers over Vagabond and gave him a fond pat on the head.

“Goodnight Ry,” he said.


	4. Guard Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> Vagabond adjust to life in the penhouse and gets a little overprotective...

The room became designated as Vagabond’s. Eventually, Michael, being the contrary neat-freak he was, started changing and washing the sheets for the dog. Vagabond insisted upon being fed at the table. He would no longer eat food that was left for him on the floor. He joined them for every meal and ate what the crew ate. Vagabond turned his nose up at dog food now - even the nice fancy dog food Geoff bought one day in a fit of desperation. The man was dismayed that this huge creature had managed to muscle its way into their lives and was now the basically biggest lap dog on the planet. There were also a few weeks in which they learnt that Vagabond had an insanely sweet tooth. Michael had brought home a box of donuts one day. He’d left in on the counter, went to check in with Geoff and and was perplexed to find the box empty when he returned to get one. Fingers had been pointed at all members of the crew and even the B-Team. Then they’d found Vagabond with traces of powdered sugar on his black chest fur. Donuts were kept on high shelves after that. Pastries were not the only sweets in danger of going missing either. For quite a while Geoff had found himself at a loss when trying to find something to mix his bourbon with.

“I swear I just bought a case of Diet Coke the other day!” He screeched storming around the penthouse.

“How? You never do the grocery shopping,” Jack said as he lounged on the sofa, flipping through channels. The lads were squabbling over a pinball machine in the corner.

“I know, because I there never seems to be any around and I  _ specifically  _ stopped at that convenience store we robbed that one time. They still haven’t managed to get the blood-stain out of the ceiling,” Geoff said, throwing himself onto the couch too. Jack patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“Heh. Nice. That was a fun day,” Michael called from across the room.

Geoff shifted on the couch. He reached behind him and drew out a crumpled soda can. He turned it over. The silver and red of the Diet Coke logo was punctured with large holes.

“The fuck…?”

“You boys shotgunning Diet Cokes now?” Jack called looking at the can in Geoff’s hands.

“Why would we do that?” replied Gavin.

“Yeah. What’s the fun of shotgunning something can’t make you drunk?” added Jeremy. “Ah fuck! No! That went right between the flippers! This stupid machine hates me!”

“Out the way, loser,” said Michael shouldering him aside with a grin.

Geoff turned the can over in his hands. “They almost look like tooth marks…” he mused. “They must have been big teeth.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the ink-blot like fur of Vagabond’s shape slink into the hall.

“What the fuck!” Geoff roared and leapt to his feet. “The dog’s been drinking them!”

The lads and Jack just stared at him.

“He is! Look at the tooth marks! He’s gone and pinched all my Coke!”

“Are  _ you _ on coke?” asked Jack.

Geoff made an incomprehensible noise and stormed after Vagabond. He flung open the door of the dog’s room and. Vagabond sat on the bed, regarding him with a neutral expression. The lads had followed, their curiosity piqued. Geoff checked under the bed, in the cupboards and even behind the curtains. Finding nothing, he left the room in a high temper. Gavin imagined Vagabond looked very smug. It was only a few days later when they were lazing in the garden that Gavin noticed the glint of silver and red in the now-unused dog kennel.

Vagabond also insisted on regular baths. This turned into Gavin’s chore. They were weekly at first, but after the dog’s whining, they became almost daily occurrences.

“It’s like he thinks he’s people!” Gavin would say with a laugh.

Vagabond followed Gavin everywhere. No matter where the gangly British lad was, Vagabond was only a few yards away. It was terribly amusing to see the dog sitting in the chair next to Gavin during their most recent planning sessions for the crew’s next big heist. For a while Geoff had attempted to put his foot down, but had eventually resigned himself to accept the fact that Vagabond was now a permanent fixture of their life. Gavin knew, however, that their gruff boss did not hate the dog as much as he let on. He’d seen the pair out on the balcony one day. Geoff had been sitting on a recliner, Vagabond laying on one opposite him. They looked to have been locked in a staring contest. Vagabond had huffed, gotten up, gone inside for a second, and returned, presenting Geoff with a bottle of whiskey he’d pulled off the shelf. Geoff had been stunned, but afterwards had not complained as loudly when Vagabond joined them at the dinner table.

 

Planning for their heist progressed steadily. Their idea was a genius one. It was sort of inspired by a movie night where they had watched all of the  _ Ocean’s _ movies in one go. They were going to make it seem like they were heisting one bank, through the clever use of a speaker system, timed pyrotechnics, an automated turret, and a little bit of hacking. While that was going on, they’d be all the way over on the other side of the city. With police successfully distracted by the decoy heist, they’d have no problem knocking over a different bank.

The day was finally upon them. The crew stocked up on ammo and triple checked all their weapons. Go time was approaching. They encountered an obstacle before they even left the penthouse. Vagabond stood at the front door, effectively blocking it with his enormous body.

“Ry… What are you doing, you silly sod? Out the way,” said Gavin, attempting to shuffle past him.

The dog whined, pushing against Gavin and shoving him to the floor. Gavin laughed. Vagabond also headbutted anyone else who tried to get at the door.

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” asked Michael.

“He doesn’t want us to go,” Jack said, chuckling.

Vagabond whined again. He pawed at the door.

“Or maybe he wants to come with us?” Jeremy asked.

“Dumb mutt can’t come. He’ll just get in the way. We’re robbing a bank, not sniffing for drugs,” Geoff said, trying to push past the dog. Vagabond knocked him back too and scratched at the door again. The look on the dog’s face was the definition of anxious.

“Fucking - someone get him out of the way,” Geoff growled.

Gavin laughed and got up again.

“Aw! Poor Ry! He wants to come protect us! Lovely Ryan!” Gavin threw his arms around Vagabond’s neck in a hug. It happened in an instant. There was a snarl and a snap. White canines flashed at Gavin’s hand and the lad yelped and jumped back. Vagabond released him almost as quickly as he’d bitten and dropped to the floor. Geoff’s gun was out, pointing at Vagabond as he grovelled. The dog stared at Gavin and whine piteously,  an incredibly guilty look on his face.

“You fucker!” roared Geoff, flicking the safety off.

“Geoff! Wait! Don’t!” Gavin cried, throwing himself between Geoff and the dog.

“Gavin! Move! I am going to shoot that animal! I knew it wasn’t safe!”

“You can’t hurt him! That was totally my fault! I surprised him! He didn’t mean to bite me! I shouldn’t have put anything around him from behind - of course that was going to freak him out! Plus he was already worried about us all going off to do something dangerous,” Gavin yelled. His voice was trembling.

Jack stepped forward too. “The stress of all his people leaving, plus the sudden ‘attack’ from behind. Of course he reacted like that,” said the taller man.

Geoff looked from one to the other, his harsh breathing making his moustache twitch. 

“Geoff. Please put the gun down…” Gavin said, his bright green eyes fixed on the barrel.

Geoff’s eyes travelled up to Gavin’s hand. In the very centre of his palm was a small hole that was trickling blood.

“Fuck Gavin. Are you okay?” Geoff lowered the gun and grabbed Gavin’s hand. The lad hissed.

“Ow! Geoff! Don’t squeeze it! You’re hurting me more than the actual bite is,” Gavin said as Geoff dragged him over to the kitchen. Geoff pulled out the first aid kit and began examining Gavin’s hand. Vagabond had followed in the commotion, still whining and looking at Gavin guiltily. Geoff aimed a kick at the dog.

“Geoff, don’t!” Gavin shouted, grabbing Geoff’s arm.

“Get that mongrel the fuck out of here,” Geoff snapped. Vagabond slunk away. Jack sighed and moved to the door.

“Vagabond. Come on. Back to the garden, buddy,” he said gently. Vagabond followed Jack, still looking morose.  Gavin watched him go.

“Geoff - you can’t blame Ryan… He was just surprised is all…”

Geoff sighed. “I can’t… I don’t like seeing you guys get hurt,” he muttered.

Gavin laughed. “You do realise that we are about to go out and rob a bank? We get shot at on a nearly daily basis!”

“Yes, I know that! But that’s out there! Usually in the penthouse I can breathe easy because I know there’s no threat. That dog…”

“You saw the look on his face. He knows what he did is wrong… Oi! You are not sticking a needle in my hand. It’s tiny. I do not need stitches for that. Just bandage it and I’ll be good to go,” said Gavin.

Geoff put down the needle and thread. He bandaged Gavin’s hand silently. Jeremy and Michael stood by the doorway, fidgeting with their weapons.

“I know he means a lot to you…” Geoff muttered.

“He really does.”

“Then don’t do stupid shit like that again,” Geoff said.

Gavin beamed and threw his arms around Geoff.

“Thank you!”

 

The heist went as well as their heists usually did. The decoy bank-robbery worked well enough that they managed to get in and out of the other bank without a problem, but by that time, the cops had caught onto the ruse. A heart-pounding car and helicopter chase ensued. Gavin and Jeremy found themselves having to hide out at a safehouse for a few hours. Jeremy had tried to steer them away from the chaos, Gavin hanging out of the passenger side window, lighting up anything behind them. The sandy-haired Brit had unfortunately been nicked by a few bullets and had begun bleeding heavily. Luckily, all of their safehouses were loaded with medical supplies. Jeremy was able to patch Gavin up and they drove back to the penthouse a few hours later.

They were the second ones to return. Jack and Geoff were already there, bruised and bloody, but looking well.

“Michael called ahead. He’ll be back soon too. He just got caught up down near the docks. His getaway car’s tyres got shot out. He had to find a new one,” Geoff said, brandishing his phone.

Gavin and Jeremy let out sighs of relief. They walked over to the dining room table and deposited their duffel bags on it. Geoff grinned and rubbed his hands, joining them. He emptied out the bags, watching stacks of green tumble out to join the pile already there.

“Excellent!”

Jeremy grinned too and he and Geoff joined Jack who’d already started counting the money. Gavin stood apart from the three, shifting from foot to foot. When he was sure they were engrossed in their task, he tiptoed to the door and slipped out. He hit the button for the ground floor.

 

The garden was dark, but soft mood lights here and there lit up the water feature and a few trees.

“Ryan?” Gavin called gently. He closed the garden door behind him and padded out into the middle of the lawn. “Ry, where are you?” Gavin stared around, trying to catch a hint of the dark fur somewhere in the shrubbery.

“Please come out Ry. I know you didn’t mean to do it. It was pretty much my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have snuck up behind you like that. Again, my fault. I’m such a dumbass.”

Gavin finally found the dog. He was curled up by the edge of a pond, almost completely hidden in the shadows. The only thing betraying him was the reflection of his bright eyes. Gavin approached slowly.

“Hey… Ryan. Come on. I’m sorry for scaring you. And I know you’re sorry for biting me. Let’s just go back to the way we were before, okay?”

Gavin dropped down onto his knees and shuffled towards Ryan. The big dog whined.

“Dude. It’s really okay. It doesn’t even hurt anymore. Look,” Gavin said. He held out his hand and unwrapped the bandage. The tiny hole had scabbed up already. He let Vagabond sniff it.

“See? All good. I’m more injured by the heist just now than you,” Gavin said with a laugh. The dog sat up suddenly. He crawled towards Gavin, nosing all over his torso and finally locating the bandage wrapped around his midsection where the bullets had ripped through the skin. Vagabond yowled and stared at Gavin reproachfully. The lad laughed and then winced, holding his side.

 

He was allowed back into the penthouse after a few days. Allowed may have been too strong a word; Vagabond bullied his way back in, liberally abusing his size and puppy dog eyes. For some reason he then took it upon himself to try and stop people, especially Gavin, from  _ ever _ leaving the penthouse. Whenever the one of the crew headed for the doors, Vagabond would be there, grabbing onto their clothing, or tripping them up and then sitting on them when they’d fallen to the floor.

“Jaaaaack!”

The bearded man sighed. This was the third time today that Gavin had been accosted by the dog. It had been funny for first few times, but now it was just becoming inconvenient. The Fake AH Crew was a busy one, and the ten minutes or so they had to spend dancing around Vagabond to get out of the penthouse was adding up.

Jack exited the heist room and found Gavin lying in the hall on his front. Vagabond was laying on top of him, a grumpy look on his face. Jack crossed his arms.

“You know, I used to think he was just playing, but I get the feeling that this is something else. Whenever we’re all not here, he goes a little nuts. It’s lucky Geoff hasn’t noticed the decline in decorative couch cushions.”

“Well it’s very nice that you’re thinking Jack, but could you maybe do a little less of it, and more of the ‘removing extremely large animal from my spleen’? Seriously. He’s crushing my ribcage!” Gavin yelled, his wriggling ineffectual. Jack just laughed.

“I think he thinks he’s being protective. Perhaps this is some old training coming back to him. I think he might have been taught to be a sort of body-guard type dog. Maybe we should consider bringing him along on jobs and things?”

At Jack’s words, Vagabond pricked up his ears. He immediately got up off Gavin and barked at Jack.

The two men looked at the dog.

“I think that’s a yes,” said Gavin.

“Well, I’m headed out at the moment. Meeting up with one of our contacts to discuss a shipment of supplies we need to purchase. The other three are busy. Do you wanna come?”

“Sure!” said Gavin, getting to his feet.

“It’s a pretty simple meet. And we know the dealer well. It should be a pretty safe first outing to take Vagabond on,” Jack said.

“You hear that boy? You’re coming on a job,” said Gavin.

Vagabond gave him an eye roll and padded to the door.

 

They travelled down several floors in the lift, getting out at one of the crews’ expansive garages. Jack swung a set of keys around his finger as he walked. Gavin trailed after him. Vagabond had paused at the sight of so many cars. He trotted over to one. It was a brand new, top of the line X80. The fastest car commercially available currently. Vagabond crowed as he circled it.

“You’d better not pee on that,” joked Jack. “That’s Geoff’s. He’d kill you if you did. It wouldn’t be pretty. Lots of blood. Viscera.”

Gavin laughed as Vagabond snorted. The dog’s eyes fell upon a different car. It was a three-wheeled roadster that Jeremy had affectionately named the  _ Rimmy-Turtle _ . The thing was coloured in eye watering shades of purple and orange. The rest of the crew always wondered whether Jeremy was colourblind, as the two seemed to be a theme for everything he owned. The  _ Turtle _ even had purple and orange trim lights.

“Now that, you  _ can _ pee on,” Gavin said. Vagabond seemed to be seriously considering it.

“C’mon you two!” Jack said. He clicked the button on his keys and the dark blue Entity on the other side of the room beeped in response. Vagabond lost interest in the  _ Turtle  _ and followed Jack. The bearded man got in his car and the engine roared to life, then settle to an exhilarating rumble. Gavin rounded to the passenger side and opened the door. Vagabond made to get in.

“Oi! Where’s the room for me?” said the Brit.

Jack chuckled.

“He’ll have to sit on your lap if he’s gonna come,” he said.

Gavin slid into the passenger seat and looked apprehensively at the large dog. Vagabond looked just as put out at the thought of climbing into Gavin’s lap.

“It’s either that, or don’t come,” Jack said with a shrug.

“C’mon buddy,” Gavin said, patting his knees in encouragement. Vagabond gave a frustrated whine and then stepped into the car, tucking in his tail and positioning himself cautiously in Gavin’s skinny lap.

“Holy shit. Ryan! You weigh like a  _ ton! _ ”

The dog twisted around and gave him an affronted look.

“Alright, alright. Calm down,” Gavin said, wriggling his thighs so Vagabond’s back legs didn’t dig in so bad and shut the door. Jack revved the engine and they purred towards the garage door and out into the street. The two men laughed as Vagabond barked excitedly and put his front paws up on the dash. Soon, they were out of the city and cruising along the highways. Vagabond was grinning at the increase in speed. In turn, this made Gavin smile.

“I think he likes going for drives,” he said to Jack.

“Oh? And what gave you that impression?” asked the bearded man. He depressed the accelerator slightly, and Vagabond barked again, clearly ecstatic.

“Hm…” said Jack. He took an off ramp, heading out into the desert. Here, the land was drier. The sun reflected harshly off cracked, barren dirt that was spotted occasionally with dehydrated grass. The road was rougher, and there was no traffic save for the odd rusty old pickup.

“Let’s see how he likes this then,” Jack said with a smile. The three were jolted backwards as Jack gave the car its head. The needle on the dash crept forwards. Vagabond howled with excitement. Gavin laughed again and stroked his back. They blasted down the deserted roads, taking corners at ludicrous speeds and fishtailing slightly out of the turns. Jack and Gavin had never seen the dog happier than when the speedometer read over a hundred miles per hour.

 

The dark blue Entity was caked in yellow desert dust by the time they pulled up at the warehouse. All three had grins still on their faces as they piled out of the car.

“That was a lot of fun,” Gavin said. He had to lean on the car as his knees felt a little weak.

_ “Row-ow-ow-row!” _ came Vagabond’s enthusiastic reply.

“Okay, you pair. Enough chit-chat. We’re a little late as is. Get your butts inside,” Jack said. He locked the car with a beep and headed towards the door of the warehouse.

Their supplier was already inside waiting for them. She raised one perfectly coiffed eyebrow when Gavin stepped into the tiny, stuffy office behind Jack, followed by the huge form of Vagabond. The dog moved up to stand just behind Jack’s right. His blue eyes flickered over Gavin, and then came to rest on the woman sitting at the table.

“Estelle. Nice to see you again,” Jack said, moving forward to shake her hand.

The woman, Estelle, gave Jack a tight lipped smile. “Jack,” she replied. “What’s with the extra security?”

Jack’s eyes flickered to the three burly men that stood behind Estelle, then looked at Gavin and Vagabond and chuckled. 

“Kid’s along for the ride and he’s just a big lapdog,” Jack said. “Now. What we wanted to talk to you about. That shipment was coming in on the thirtieth, right?”

Estelle was lounging in her chair, tilting it back so it balanced on two legs.

“It might be,” Estelle said.

Gavin was leant against the wall, fiddling with a piece of paper stuck there. His long fingers were soft. Sure, he handled guns when he needed, but they were more used to keyboards and coding. Those eyes though, they were green and sharp. He needed sharp eyes when scanning programs and picking apart a system, and seeing the patterns that only he could see. Gavin’s razor eyes did not miss the way Jack’s smile twitched at the woman’s words.

“That’s good then. Well, the boss said you might be more amenable to settle on a price in person than over the phone. More professional, with a face to face, you know how it is.”

Estelle didn’t say anything.

“Anyway. We’re prepared to pay three hundred for the shipment. How does that sound?” said Jack.

Estelle let her chair fall forward with a bang.

“Three hundred thousand? Ramsey can’t be serious,” she said.

Jack’s lips quirked. “We thought it was rather generous,” he said.

Estelle looked down and began picking at her fingernails.

“You might have to reconsider that number. I have quite a few other buyers interested actually,” she said. Jack’s expression hardened a fraction further, but he smoothed away the frown.

“Really? I always thought we were your biggest customers?”

“A girl’s gotta expand sometime, Jack. It’s a big market out there, and unless I get a better offer from the Fakes, this product will be going to someone else,” Estelle said. Her voice was as smooth as the grin that slid onto her face. Gavin had always been impressed by Jack’s cool. He was Geoff’s right hand man for a reason.

“Come on Estelle, Geoff’ll have my head if I go over budget on this. Business spendings, you know…”

“Edgar is offering me five hundred thousand,” Estelle said, standing up suddenly.

All eyes snapped towards Vagabond who let out a harsh snarl. His blue eyes were fixed on Estelle. The dealer’s three guards shifted and reached for their weapons.

“Gavin, would you mind taking him outside?”

Gavin pushed off the wall, a concerned look on his face.

“Ryan, come on,” Gavin called, opening the door to the office.

Vagabond ignored him. The fur on his back was beginning to stand up. Estelle was eyeing the dog, her fingers twitching towards where she probably had a gun stashed. Gavin strode up. He made sure he was in the dog’s line of sight before gently tugging on his mane.

“Ry! Come on dude. Let’s go back to the car,” Gavin hissed.

The touch from Gavin seemed to break him out of his trance. Gavin herded him to the door.

 

Outside, the dog began to pace in the dust. Every now and then he would glance back at the warehouse door. After a few minutes the door opened again. Jack strode out. He rounded to the boot of the Entity and pulled out a suitcase.

“What did you guys settle on?”

“Four hundred thousand, but only because I told her I could pay her in cash now,” Jack said. His expression was carefully blank. He took the case inside, then came back out again empty handed. The three hopped back into the car and Jack fired off a text to Geoff. Gavin leant over and read off his phone.

_ 2am, 30th, dock 12 _

“Did she seriously say that she was working for Edgar?” Gavin said as Jack put the phone into his pocket and they pulled onto the road. Jack finally let his frustration show.

“It’s not a nice thing to hear, I know. She is a weapons dealer though. They’re mostly impartial, but after nearly a year of working with her, I thought she’d show a little more loyalty to be honest…” he said through his teeth. Gavin’s attention had turned to Vagabond though. The dog had tensed at the mention of Edgar’s name again.

“What do you think we should do then?”

Jack rubbed his beard. “Well, we have paid her. We’ll just have to keep an eye out, I guess.”

Gavin nodded and tentatively stroked Vagabond’s fur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene where Vagabond bites Gavvy is actually based on a true story!  
> I was petting the neighbour's rottweiler - he was the most lovable, goofy thing. Would't hurt a fly. I hugged him and suddenly found myself with a hole in my hand. Poor puppy looked so guilty! Totally my fault though - I surprised him real bad.


	5. Barks, Bags and Bullets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> Vagabond is acting strange and the crew runs into an old enemy.

Vagabond no longer blocked the crew from leaving the penthouse now that they knew all they had to do was take him on jobs with them.

“And he’s a wonderful chick magnet!” Michael said, ruffling his ears playfully. The dog grunted and ducked out from under the red-head’s hand.

“No way! Surely they’d think he’s scary? He’s like ten feet tall!” said Gavin.

“That’s taller than me!” called Jeremy from the couch.

“Way to sell yourself short Lil J,” Michael said, rolling his eyes.

Jeremy made a sad sound. “Oh man. I’ve just gotten so used to you guys making short jokes, now even  _ I’m _ putting  _ myself _ down.”

Gavin squeaked with laughter.

“But seriously. I was just standing on the street corner waiting for Kdin to meet up with me.  _ Three  _  girls stopped to ask me about him. And then when Kdin turned up, the first thing she did when she saw me was crouch down and just start petting him,” Michael said.

“Well, you can’t deny he’s handsome,” Gavin said with a grin. Vagabond who’d gone to plop down next to Jeremy and watch him play Titanfall twisted around and stared at Gavin for a moment before looking away and shoving his nose under a cushion.

 

Vagabond was by no means the perfect pet, even though he’d come a long way. The crew would arrive home to find couch cushions shredded and things knocked off tables and benches - this was of course, immediately hidden from Geoff. Jeremy and Michael attempted to make light of the situation a few times by ‘pet-shaming’ him. They made a cardboard sign saying “I really hate decor” and tried to take pictures of him with it. The huge black dog was not having it. After that, any destruction was solely limited to his own room. The rest attributed it to dogs just being dogs, but Gavin was worried. While he worked in his office, he always had a monitor displaying the tower’s security footage. He’d watched Vagabond tear things apart multiple times. Unlike most dogs who seemed to do it out of boredom, Vagabond appeared agitated. He would pace up and down the halls, head slung low, the fur on his back standing on end. He would snarl and snap at nothing and howl endlessly. Gavin often found the dog staring at himself in one mirror or another. He wasn’t sure what to do about it, so just resolved to keep Vagabond company whenever he could.

 

“C’mon Ryan! Wanna go for a drive?” Gavin asked one day. Geoff, Jeremy and Michael were out and Gavin couldn’t convince Jack to eat anything stupid, or do anything dumb for money, so he was kind of bored. Gavin’s words were met with the sound of claws skittering on polished wood as Vagabond hurried to the door. Gavin laughed and opened it for him.

They headed down to the garage in the lift. Gavin pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and clicked the button on them as Vagabond bound out of the elevator. The dog skidded to a halt in front of the car that had beeped in response. His jaw hung open slightly.

“You like it? It’s kind of the only car Geoff and Jack let me drive,” Gavin said, walking around to the driver’s side and giving the rear tyre a light kick. Vagabond snorted and shook his head. Gavin’s car was a rather dinged up, bright purple compact.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Gavin called, halfway in the car. Vagabond trotted over to the lift and to Gavin’s surprise, pushed the button with his nose. The doors pinged open. 

“Oi! What? Now you’re a car snob? What’s wrong with my Blista?”

Vagabond gave him a scathing look as he sat in the middle of the elevator and the doors slid shut.

 

Jeremy didn’t even need an excuse to take the huge dog out anymore. He found it hilarious that Vagabond seemed to adore going as fast as possible, so would often invite him along on trips out to the middle of nowhere and back again.

They were out, speeding along back roads in a sleek, silver Turismo. Jeremy had made up an improvised racetrack consisting of a few hairpin turns and a slalom between several broken down old cars and a tractor. He was currently trying to beat his lap record. Jeremy skidded to a halt at his imaginary finish line. He turned to Vagabond.

“How was that?” he asked the dog.

Vagabond huffed and rolled his eyes. He put his paws on the dash and barked.

“Come on. How are you not impressed? That was my fastest lap yet,” Jeremy said.

Vagabond barked again, bouncing against the dashboard.

“You wanna go fast again?”

_ Bark _ .

“You speed demon, you.” Jeremy spun the wheel and slammed on the gas. They fishtailed away through the dirt. Jeremy made it back onto tarred roads and geared up. The man laughed as they sped up and Vagabond let his tongue hang out. They roared up the road and suddenly Vagabond was howling and barking and scratching at the door.

“What the fuck!” Jeremy yelled and he slammed on the brakes. Vagabond didn’t let up. He scrabbled at the window, scratching the laminate on the glass.

“Hey! Hey! You’re ruining the upholstery!” Jeremy threw open the driver’s side door and got out. He coughed and waved a hand in front of his face. Their sudden stop had thrown up a huge cloud of dirt. Jeremy went around to Vagabond's side, but the dog was already out the driver’s door, a streak of black through the yellow dust.

“Vagabond! Come back!”

They had stopped near an old, decrepit airstrip often called Trevor’s Airfield. Dotted here and there near the train tracks were withered looking cacti. Vagabond had pelted off towards the runway. Jeremy grabbed a gun from under his seat and dashed after the dog.

He found Vagabond digging frantically in the hard packed dirt beside a large rock.

“Hey boy, what have you found, huh?”

Vagabond ignored him and kept digging. To Jeremy’s surprise, eventually he revealed the dirty straps of a duffle bag. Jeremy moved over to help him, easing the bag from the earth. Vagabond was whining as the man unzipped it. Jeremy ran a hand through his dyed-blue hair and stared at the contents. Inside was a dozen or more stacks of cash, a pistol, a suppressor, an old paperback and a black rubber mask. Jeremy pulled out the mask and looked at it a little closer. A grinning skull with empty eyes looked back at him. Vagabond shifted closer, snuffling at the mask. He took it gently from Jeremy and trotted away. Jeremy puzzled at the contents of the bag for a few more seconds, then zipped it up and headed back to the car.

 

Vagabond was silent on the way back to the penthouse. Jeremy hadn’t been able to get the mask back from the dog and gave up after a few tries.

“I’m back!” he called, strolling into the living room.

“Why are you so filthy?” Michael asked, staring at him over the back of the couch.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jeremy said with a roguish smile and a wink. Michael snorted.

“What’s that?” Gavin asked, popping up too. He pointed at the dirty bag in Jeremy’s grasp.

“Weird thing happened…” said the blue-haired man. “We were out near the airfield when Vagabond just went nuts trying to get out of the car. I stopped and let him out and he ran away to dig this up.”

Jeremy crossed to the table and dumped the contents out. The two other lads gasped.

“Whoa. What’s all this?” Jack and Geoff walked into the room.

“Vagabond found it!” Gavin said.

The dog in question had slunk to the corner of the couch. He had laid down and placed the black mask on his front paws. He was ignoring the rest of them in favour of staring at it.

“What? He hunts treasure now?” Geoff asked, head whipping back and forth comically.

“I don’t think so. Not even a bloodhound could have smelled cash underground that far, from inside a car. I think he already knew it was there,” Jeremy said.

“How though?” asked Gavin, coming to see if there was anything else in the bag. Michael picked up the pistol and the suppressor and inspected them.

“I think it might have belonged to whoever owned him before he wound up with the Hellhound gang. I mean. He’s obviously not a stray dog. He’s way too smart for that,” Jeremy said.

Geoff had fixed his grey-blue eyes on where Vagabond was sitting, staring at the skull mask.

“Wait a second.” He rounded the couch and went to grab the mask. Vagabond glared at Geoff.

“Hey. Don’t be like that,” snapped Geoff. “I’ll give it right back. I just want to look at it.”

Vagabond begrudgingly allowed Geoff to pick the black mask up.

“Hey Jack. You recognise this?” he said, holding it up for the bearded man to see. Vagabond’s ears pricked up. Jack frowned and came over to examine the mask too.

“Hm… Vaguely,” he said.

“I think I know who Vagabond belongs to,” Geoff said. He laughed. “It’s funny too, because that’s who I got the name from!”

“What? There’s some bloke called Vagabond?” Michael straightened up and put the pistol back down on the table.

“No,  _ The _ Vagabond. He’s a notorious merc for hire. Extremely good at what he does. Scary motherfucker. We were considering contracting him a few years back for a job, but he suddenly went off the grid. No one knew where he went. I heard that he fucked off overseas.”

He tossed the mask back at Vagabond who gathered it into his lap again.

“We never met in person, but I remember reading his file and looking at security cam snaps of him. He always wore a black skull mask, exactly like that one. No one knew what he really looked like,” Geoff added. Jack spoke up too.

“The Vagabond… Revered among criminals he is. When we were looking into him it was damn near impossible to find  _ any  _ information on him. Those files we  _ did _ get, Geoff had to pay out the ass for.”

“What about my ass?” Geoff asked, thumbing through  stack of bills.

Jack ignored him and continued. His deep voice lent an air of foreboding to his words. He noticed Michael, Gavin and Jeremy all move closer.

“Extremely good doesn’t even begin to cover his skills. He’s a master of everything. He’s like a shadow. Wherever he goes, blood and death and destruction follow. You wouldn’t even see him if he was after you. Not until that last moment as he watches your life bleed out onto the ground. Only then will you see the eyes behind the mask. He’s in a league all his own. I heard he single-handedly took out an entire syndicate on the west coast - for fun. His kill count is constantly debated because it’s both so high, and because he’s just so untraceable. There are whispers that he’s not really right in the head.” Jack lowered his voice. “He goes by other names too… The Mad Mercenary. Dark God. The Mad King. ”

“That is  _ beyond _ creepy,” said Gavin, shivering and wrapping his skinny arms around himself. Jack laughed uproariously. The spell was broken and the lads shifted about uncomfortably.

“Yeah… Something about the dog just reminded me of him was all. And now this…” Geoff gestured to the bag, money and gun scattered over the table. “I really think the dog might have belonged to him!”

Gavin moved over to sit beside Vagabond on the couch.

Geoff preened his moustache. “You know what? I should put out some feelers. We’ll see if anyone knows the whereabouts of the actual Vagabond. Who knows? If we make contact and return his dog to him, maybe we can curry some favour with him?” Geoff walked away, pulling out his phone as he went.

Gavin tucked his legs up and hugged them.

“What an idiot idea,” he mumbled at his knees.

Vagabond nudged him with a low whine.

“Why? Because I don’t want someone else to come take you away. I really like having you here. I want you to stay,” Gavin said.

Vagabond nudged him again.

“What?” Gavin asked, looking up finally. The dog was looking down his nose at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh? And what does your infinite wolfy wisdom know that I don’t?” said Gavin.

Vagabond chuffed and seemed to roll his eyes. Gavin sighed and leant gently against the huge dog’s side.

“It’s just… you belong here. You’re one of the crew now. I couldn’t bear it if you left…”

Vagabond was very still for a moment. Then he lifted his huge head and rested it softly on top of the Brit’s. The big dog hummed.

 

The thirtieth rolled around. Vagabond sat in the back of the crew’s Enduro as they headed to the Achievement City docks to pick up the shipment of ammunition and weaponry they’d purchased from Estelle. Gavin sat beside him, Michael in the passenger seat and Jack at the wheel. Geoff and Jeremy were close behind them in a large box truck. Gavin giggled as he saw Michael’s head loll against the seat again. He leant forward and poked him in the neck.

“Ah! Fuck! Stop that!” the redhead yelled, jerking awake for the the sixth time.

“Michael, the sleeping beauty. Who knew you were actually a Disney princess?”

“Micoo!” the lad cooed, mocking his accent. “Shut the fuck up!” He reached back and shoved Gavin who just giggled again. Michael slumped back in his seat.

“I can’t help it that it’s the ass crack of dawn. Actually, it’s not that late in the morning to call it the ass-crack. It’s more like the bowels of dawn - or perhaps the upper intestine of dawn,” he said. The dash clock did indeed read two in the morning. Michael yawned and rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

“Aw, don’t be like that Michael. You always sleep in. It’s such a waste of time! Think of all of the extra hours to do stuff in if you got up early!”

“Yeah, like sleep.”

“Alright lovebirds, quit the bickering,” Jack said, a laugh in his voice.

They pulled up at a set of chain link gates. The car’s headlights illuminated a sign emblazoned with the number twelve.

“Can you get that, Michael?” Jack said.

Michael yawned again but nodded. He slipped out of the car and went to get the gate. Upon reaching it, he found it chained shut.

“There’s a chain!” he called, pointing at it.

Jack frowned. “There’s a set of bolt cutters in the trunk!” he yelled back.

The redhead flashed him a thumbs up, but paused, staring at the chain again.

“You know what? Never mind. This isn’t actually locked.” Michael tugged on one end of the chain and it slid off. He shrugged, but the gate was soon swinging open for them. Michael waved the two vehicles through and then closed it behind them. Jack pulled up and he, Gavin and Vagabond got out. The big dog stretched lazily as Geoff parked behind them and he and Jeremy got out too. Michael hopped off the tailgate of the truck and wandered back over to the Enduro. He leant against the passenger side and rested his head on the roof, cheek down, letting his eyes slide shut. Jeremy came over too, leaning up against Michael’s back and shutting his eyes as well.

“Get the fuck off,” Michael mumbled, giving the other lad a halfhearted shake.

“No. You’re comfortable,” said Jeremy in the middle of a yawn.

Gavin giggled and poked Jeremy’s face. The blue-haired man barely grimaced, eyes staying shut.

“Get your own pillow,” Jeremy muttered. Michael shook him again and finally the shorter man wandered over to pet Vagabond instead, Gavin following him.

Jack checked his phone.

“What time is it now?” Geoff asked, coming to stand next to him.

“Eight past two. I would have expected the shipment to be here already. Or at least the ship,” Jack said. He grabbed a flashlight from his car and clicked it on, swinging it back and forwards to look down at the dock. The five jumped as Vagabond gave a sudden snarl. Jack shone the light on him. His teeth were bared, hackles on end. The others shouted in alarm moments later as the sound of gunfire ripped through the night. Michael, Geoff and Jack threw themselves down behind the Enduro, drawing weapons of their own.

“Holy shit! What the fuck is going on?” Geoff yelled, checking his clip.

Gavin and Jeremy had crawled into cover behind the box truck.

“I have no fucking idea!” Jack shouted back.

The stream of lead hitting the other side of the reinforced car was relentless. Across the bullet ridden middle ground, Gavin and Jeremy were practically wrestling with Vagabond as he attempted to rush back out into the gunfire. The dog was vibrating with growls, eyes wild.

“Holy fuck, who are these guys, and why do they hate us so bad?” yelled Michael.

Suddenly, as if they’d heard the red haired lad, the hail of bullets stopped. The silence made everyone’s ears ring.

“Ramsey.” The voice was deep and polite. Pleasant even.

Jack could feel Geoff tense beside him.

“I would ask if you come here often, but that would be rather rhetorical.”

Geoff swore under his breath. “Edgar…”

“Motherfucker... Estelle, that piece of shit! She’s double-crossed us!” Jack hissed. “Estelle took our money, then went straight to Edgar and took his as well. Gave us the same date and time in hopes that we’d both turn up and one of us would wipe the other out!”

“Sneaky bitch,” Geoff said, rubbing hand over his face.

“Ramsey… I know you’re there. Why don’t you come out, so we can talk. Like men?” Edgar’s voice was conversational, as if they were meeting in the street rather than late at night in a bullet-riddled dock with highly illegal cargo up for grabs.

“Because you’d fuckin’ shoot me immediately!” Geoff yelled.

Edgar laughed. “You know me too well Ramsey.”

The two did know each other rather well. Both crews had risen to power at very similar times over the past few years. Edgar’s group, the Animal Farm, had been a constant thorn in the Fake AH Crew’s side ever since they’d formed. Edgar was a cruel and unusual man, incredibly cunning and vicious. It didn’t help that he was rarely seen without a cow mask. All of his crew wore animal masks, which in Geoff’s words were ‘creepy as dicks’.

“So, how about you lot just fuck off and leave that cargo for us, huh?” Geoff called.

Edgar laughed again. “You’ve always been the funny man Ramsey.”

“I knew my charm and wit would win you over one day, sweetheart,” Geoff yelled, his words liberally infused with sarcasm.

“This - this is mine. I bought it,” Edgar said.

“As did we it seems. I should never have let a woman come between us. As soon as I’m done with you, I will be over to take care of the lovely Estelle,” called Geoff.

“I would suggest you get the fuck out of here Ramsey. I would gladly kill you all, but I’m quite busy, if you didn’t notice,” said Edgar.

“Aw! You never make time for me any more, honey!” called Geoff.

They heard Edgar growl wordlessly. Michael giggled.

“Just shoot them,” Edgar said. Bullets ripped through the darkness, making the Fakes flatten themselves against their cars again.

“Fuck,” Michael snarled. He grabbed a grenade from who knows where; it was safe to assume that Michael had at least four different forms of explosive on his person at all times. He pulled the pin with his teeth and threw it over the car. Seconds later there was a deafening explosion. Another moment’s pause, and then the gunfire started back up again.

“Fuck…” Michael said again. “What do we do?”

“We can all get in the Enduro. It’ll be a squeeze, but we can all get out of here. It’s completely armoured,” said Jack.

“Fuck that!” said Michael. “They’re going to take all the gear! Gear we rightfully paid for!”

Geoff looked uncertainly between the two, wincing at the continued gunshots.

“Geoff,” said Jack, grabbing his shoulder. “We’re pinned down. We have barely any weapons. We’re outnumbered as well as outgunned. We have an easy escape route. Let Edgar have this one.”

“We can take them!” Michael said, his eyes blazing. 

Geoff gritted his teeth.

“No, Jack’s right. Let’s get out of here. We’ll deal with Edgar when we can get the upper hand,” Geoff ground out.

“Aw man,” whined Michael.

“Shut up and get in the car!” yelled Geoff.

They opened the doors closest to them, Geoff scrambling in first over the driver’s seat and into the passenger, Jack following and starting the car. Michael fell into the back. The pinging of bullets off the car’s armour did not let up. They pulled up beside the box truck where Jeremy and Gavin were both still practically sitting on Vagabond, sandwiching the three between the pair of vehicles. Michael threw open the door and the two lads attempted to shove the dog in. 

“What the fuck is wrong with him!” yelled Jeremy.

“Ry! Get in the car! We have to go!” wailed Gavin.

Vagabond just continued to fight them.

“Get in the car already, shitheads! Fucking leave the dog if you have to!” Geoff yelled.

“We can’t leave him!” Gavin squawked in outrage as Vagabond twisted in his grip. It was a wonder that the dog hadn’t turned around and bitten them yet in his attempt to get away. “Michael help us!”

The freckled lad slid out of the car and with their combined strength they were able to push the struggling dog onto the back seat. Bullets peppered the rear of the Enduro. Michael screamed. A pair of Edgar’s men, one in a sheep mask, the other a horse, had moved up behind them, pointing their pistols into the narrow gap between the two vehicles. Michael dropped to his hands and knees. Gavin shouted in alarm. Jeremy spun, whipping out his own gun and returning fire. The two masked goons ducked out of the way.

“Michael! Are you okay Michael?”

Michael just swore loudly and clutched at his shoulder as he staggered to his feet. He shoved Gavin roughly into the back of the car and clambered in after him. Jeremy followed.

It was a tangle of limbs and blood and fur and spitting and swearing in the back of the Enduro as they peeled away. They flattened the gates and sped into the darkened streets of the city.

“Michael? Are you okay boi?”

“Fucking hell, that hurts! Gavin! Get your fucking knee out of my crotch!”

“I can’t help it! Ryan’s sitting there all squished! I can’t move over any further!”

The big dog was still struggling in the back seat, attempting to free himself from the confines of the car.

“Holy fuck! Michael, are you okay?” Geoff twisted around in the passenger seat, his eyes wide as he stared at the blood leaking between the fingers Michael had pressed to his arm.

“There’s a bullet in my shoulder - I’m fine and fucking dandy!”

Michael yelped as Jeremy leant over and tried to put pressure on the wound too.

“If it wasn’t for that stupid-ass dog, this wouldn’t have happened,” Geoff hissed.

Gavin felt Vagabond still. He looked over to see the big dog drop his head.

“Michael, hey, keep your hand on your shoulder there.” Jeremy was talking fast. “Are you hit anywhere else? Can you feel pain anywhere else?”

Michael groaned. “I think… My shoulder is absolutely murdering me, but I think there’s another one… Might have grazed my ribs… And my arm… and…” The lad’s voice trailed off.

“Michael?” Jeremy asked, lifting his arm and checking it over for bullet holes. “Michael, hey, is there anywhere - fuck!” Jeremy lunged forward and pried one of Michael’s eyes open.

“He’s passed out! He must be losing way too much blood!”

Geoff twisted around in his seat again, his face pale.

“Michael! Michael, can you hear me!”

Gavin was clutching the redhead's other arm in a death grip. “Jack, please hurry,” he said.

Jack nodded, grim faced. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel as they raced through the city.

 

When they made it back to the Fake’s tower, the lads tumbled from the backseat. Jeremy and Gavin hooked Michael’s arms around their shoulders and dragged him to the medical wing. The redhead’s freckles stood starkly out against his white skin. Caleb was already waiting there with a team of others. Geoff had called ahead and yelled at the skinny surgeon.

“ _ You better be prepared to save this kid’s life or you’re not going to have one for very much longer! _ ”

 

Michael had been in the operating theatre for a very long time. All four of the Fakes were in the hallway outside. They would have been inside if Caleb had not screamed at them that they were in the road and that if they wanted their friend back with a heartbeat, they would evacuate his surgery immediately. So, Geoff and Jack were sat next to each other on the little grey loveseat in the corridor. Geoff was most of the way through a bottle of whiskey. Jack’s hands were white and had not left his lap since he had sat down. He appeared to be trying to stare right through the wall and into the operating theatre. Jeremy was sat on the floor, cowboy hat over his eyes as he cleaned his gun. Gavin was stood leaning against the wall. He checked his phone every thirty seconds or so, fingers twitching, but he didn’t really seem to see whatever was on the screen. After two hours, the theater door banged open. Jeremy, Jack and Geoff leapt to their feet. Gavin was quickest, grabbing the front of Caleb’s bloodied scrubs.

The doctor put his hands up in a placating gesture.

“He’s going to be fine,” Caleb said gently.

It was like someone had let the air back in the room. Jack let his shoulders slump and Geoff was there immediately, rubbing them soothingly. Jeremy holstered his gun with a sigh. Gavin let Caleb go.

“There were shrapnel fragments in his shoulder from where a bullet splintered on contact with the shoulder blade. A clean hole through the upper left arm. Another grazed his ribs, and yet another punctured through his middle torso, piercing a lung. We had to replace nearly all his blood and reinflate the lung. He’s sleeping now, and the anesthetic will wear off by morning. You’ll be able to see him then. In the meantime, I suggest you guys get some sleep. You all look like shit.” The doctor turned and headed back into the theatre.

Geoff ran a hand through his dark hair.

“I knew the little fucker would make it. He’s too stubborn to die from just a few bullet wounds,” he muttered. Jack chuckled.

“C’mon. Caleb’s right. Sleep. Otherwise we won't have the energy to take down Edgar,” Jack said, taking Geoff’s arm and leading him away.

“Or Estelle,” said Geoff with a none too sober wave.

Jeremy nodded solemnly and followed. Gavin plodded after them. The other thing that had been injured tonight had been the crew’s pride. To have been chased off so easily by Edgar left them feeling weak and cowed. A wan smirk flitted over his lips.

The blonde lad wandered through the penthouse calling for Vagabond. He hadn’t seen where the dog had gone after dragging a bloodied Michael from the Enduro. After an hour of searching, Gavin concluded that the dog was not in the penthouse. He backtracked to his office. It’d be easier to locate the mutt on the security cameras rather than searching manually floor to floor. He eventually found the big black dog by the entrance doors to the tower. He was pawing at them in an attempt to get out. Gavin’s eyes widened.

 

“Ry?” Gavin called, stepping out of the elevator. He could hear the scratching and frustrated growls from here. Gavin approached cautiously.

“Ryan, buddy. What are you doing?” he asked softly.

The dog’s head snapped up, something guilty in his eyes. Vagabond turned away and began pawing at the door again. Gavin came up and sat cross-legged beside him. He leant forwards and rested his head on the cool glass.

“What was that all about Ry? Why did you try to run out into the gunfire?” he asked softly.

The big dog stiffened. He whined loudly, making a dozen blurping and guttural noises, then shut his mouth with a snap. He paced away from the doors.

“Ry? Buddy?”

The dog turned back and made more of the noises. He strode forward, looking Gavin straight in the eyes. Gavin cocked his head, a smile curling at his lips despite himself. He shook his head.

“It’s like you’re trying to talk,” he said.

Vagabond stared at him, those blue eyes filled with… something Gavin couldn’t figure out. Vagabond huffed and turned away letting out a loud snarl.

“Aw, hey, don’t be like that. I’ve gotten Michael shot more than once myself. Yeah, Geoff gets mad, but he won’t go so far as to get rid of you for this,” Gavin said. He shuffled closer to Vagavond and put a hand on his shoulder. “I won’t let him.”

Vagabond just let his head hang down and shut his eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault anyway. If anything, it was Edgar’s fault. He ordered his minions to shoot at us. Actually I’d say it’s Estelle’s fault. Double-crossing little tramp,” Gavin said.

Vagabond lifted his head slowly.

“What?” asked Gavin.

Vagabond shook Gavin’s hand off and paced to the door. He looked back at the lad. Gavin’s brow creased.

“You still want to go though?” he asked. Gavin’s voice had gone quiet.

Vagabond woofed softly.

“Please don’t,” said Gavin.

Vagabond turned away from him, staring resolutely out the front doors. Gavin felt his breath hitch in his chest. He walked over to the glass door, punched in the code and held it open.

“Please… stay…” he whispered.

The dog slipped outside. Gavin tried to see which direction he went, but the pitch black fur melted into the darkness, and Vagabond was gone.


	6. Reclusive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> Gav is a sad and the crew try to intervene.

“Where’s Gavvers?” Geoff stood in the middle of the penthouse living room. He was sipping a glass of scotch. Michael had managed to sit up this morning and it had left them all feeling in a very light mood. Jack was poring over a map of the city that was spread out over the kitchen table. The heist planning room did not have enough space, so their preparations had spilled out into the dining room. At Jack’s elbow were five different mobile phones. They were having some trouble tracking down Estelle, and so had several subcontractors working on locating her.

“What?” asked Jack.

“Gavin. I haven’t seen him,” said Geoff.

“I would assume he’s down with Michael,” Jack said distractedly.

“I was just down there. Michael actually asked me. Apparently Gav hasn’t been to see him at all.”

“Is he out with Jeremy then?”

“Who’s doing what with me now?” Jeremy asked, pausing on his way through the door. His blue hair was windswept and a set of purple and orange keys were in his hand.

“Is Gav with you?” Geoff asked him.

Jeremy frowned. “You know… I haven’t seen him since… I don’t know actually.”

Jack stood up straight.

“Where is he then?” he asked.

The three looked around the penthouse, as if the young hacker would simply pop out from behind a wall.

“Huh,” said Jeremy.

“I’ll try and call him,” said Jack. He picked up one of the many mobile son the table and punched in Gavin’s number. After a moment, he shook his head and put the phone down.

“It went straight to voicemail,” he said.

Geoff frowned.

“Not like Gavin…” he said.

“Actually, that’s pretty much exactly what he’s like all the time. He never picks up the phone,” Jeremy said.

Geoff nodded. “This is true.” The tattooed man pulled out his own phone. “He’ll damn well answer a call from his boss though.

After a minute, Geoff threw his phone down too.

“Fucker,” he declared.

“I’m going to check the garden. Maybe he’s playing with the dog?” said Jack.

“I’ll check if his eyesore of a car is still here,” said Geoff.

“I actually just came from there,” said Jeremy. “Blista is still parked in its spot.”

The door slammed closed behind Jack.

“He’s not with -”

“I was just with Michael who hasn’t seen him either,” said Geoff.

“Well shit. I didn’t know it was so easy to lose a British hacker twink…” said Jeremy.

They were quiet for a few minutes, just scratching their heads. Geoff tapped his chin.

“Could he just be in his room?”

Jeremy smacked his head.

“And that wasn’t the first place we checked?”

Gavin’s room was also his office. One wall was basically wallpapered with screens and the huge long desk was usually piled high with all sorts of detritus and knicknacks. Geoff rapped on the door, gave it a fraction of a second, then grabbed the door handle.

“Locked,” he said.

“Well, at least we know he’s in there,” Jeremy said with a shrug.

“Yeah, but he’s never locked the door before. Hey Jeremy can you-”

Jeremy was already on his knees, tongue between his teeth, his lockpick kit open on the floor in front of him. Geoff huffed out a laugh.

However, after several minutes of attempting to open the lock, Jeremy sat back and sighed.

“I can’t get it open. He’s broken it, I think. He doesn’t want us in there,” he said with a frown.

“He what?” Geoff shouted. He glowered at the door. “Gavin! We know you’re in there! Open the door!” He gave it a few solid pounds with his fist for emphasis. There was no response. “Gavin, you piss-baby! Open up the damn door! What are you doing in there?” Geoff yelled.

“Why do you think he locked himself in there?” Jeremy asked.

“Who knows? Maybe he feels guilty. Maybe the idiot thinks that somehow Michael getting shot is his fault. He’s done that before, the moron…” muttered Geoff. He gave the door a few more thuds.

“You guys.” Jack had returned.

“Hey, good. Maybe you can talk some sense into Sulky here,” Geoff said gesturing at the door.

“I can’t find Vagabond either,” Jack said.

“Maybe he’s in there with Gav,” said Jeremy.

Jack knocked on the door. “Gavin? Are you okay in there?”

There was no answer.

“Hey, is Vagabond in there with you?” Jack called.

“No.” Gavin’s voice was very faint.

“What?” said Geoff.

“Ryan’s not here!” Gavin yelled, his voice cracking.

The other three crew members looked at each other, frowns furrowed.

“Do you know where he is?” Jack asked.

“No I bloody don’t! He’s gone!”

“Gone? Gone where?”

“He’s just gone!”

“What do you mean?” Jack was jiggling the doorknob now. Gavin didn’t reply. “Gavin?”

The lad had gone silent again.

“Where could Vagabond be then?” asked Jeremy.

Jack rubbed at his beard. “I don’t know. The last time I saw him was in the car when we came home from the docks…”

“Did he get out somehow? He could be lost in the city somewhere,” said Jeremy.

“A fucking good riddance then,” spat Geoff.

Both Jeremy and Jack turned and gave him a cold stare.

“What? You guys saw that mutt! He was going crazy! If Michael didn’t have to help shove its butt into the car, he’d be up here kicking Gavin’s door down rather than in the medical wing, holier than a priest and high off his ass on painkillers!”

“That was no one’s fault Geoff, and you know that,” said Jack, pulling himself up to his full height.

Geoff’s moustache twitched and he turned and stomped away.

Jeremy was wringing his hands, still looking at Gavin’s door.

“What are we going to do?” he asked.

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Well, for starters, you are going down to the Rooster Teeth offices and you’re going to collect any of the files they have on Estelle. If she’s sold to them as well, we’ll need the information.”

“What about Gavin? And Vagabond?”

“Sorry Jeremy. With Michael out of commission and Gavin… well, I don’t think he’s going to be much help at the moment. You know how he gets sometimes…”

Jeremy nodded solemnly. Jack continued.

“With those two out, there’s only me, you and Geoff working on taking out Estelle. I need you, buddy.”

Jeremy sighed too. “I getcha,” he said, pulling out his car keys again.

 

“Vagabond’s what?” asked Michael. He sat up too suddenly and groaned. Jeremy darted forward and tried to help him. Michael smacked his hands out of the way. Jeremy settled for rearranging Michael’s pillows so they supported him a little better.

“Gavin said that he’s gone. He won’t elaborate. And he won’t come out of his room.”

“Asshole,” said Michael.

Jeremy nodded at the sentiment.

“How can Vagabond just be gone? He was fitting in so well with the crew. He was even starting to like the B-Team…”

“And it’s hard to like the B-Team…” said Jeremy.

“So true,” added Michael.

The pair sat in silence for a while.

“We have to do something. We have to find him,” said Michael.

“You mean,  _ I _ have to find him. You can’t go anywhere,” said Jeremy.

“Watch me,” said Michael, moving to get out of bed.

“Do that, and I will call Jack. He will be down here faster than you can say ‘bed rest’ to rip you a new one,” Jeremy said, whipping out his phone.

Michael glared at Jeremy, but settled back on the bed.

“Asshole…” he muttered.

“But you love me anyway,” Jeremy chirped.

Michael grunted, the corner of his mouth tweaking upwards.

“And it’s not like I can do anything anyway. Jack has me running errands every second of the day. Three nights in a row I’ve had to go nick documents from some place or another. Stealth work takes it out of you man…” Jeremy said, moaning and letting his head fall onto the edge of Michael’s bed. “They should market cat burglary as an intense exercise regime.”

“You better buy me dinner before you try and get into this bed,” said Michael, nudging Jeremy’s head with his foot. Jeremy made a noncommittal noise that was muffled by the mattress.

“What can we do then?” asked Jeremy, rolling his head to the side so his voice could be heard.

“I have some C4 in my bedroom. If we make the charges small enough, we can blow the door off his bedroom without damaging anything else. Much.”

“Michael, seriously. We have to do something,” Jeremy said, sitting up and looking at him.

“I know…” said the redhead. He clasped his hands in his lap and gazed out the window, his normally smooth, boyish face lined with a frown.

 

Gavin had not come out of his room. Not even for food. Jack had stayed up all night and kept watch in case they had missed him sneaking out to get something. What he was doing in there, no one knew. They  _ had  _ caught Michael sneaking up to the penthouse on no less than eight occasions. Jeremy had lost interest in his video games. Instead he would sit at the kitchen table, cleaning a gun, or doing something else with his hands, and glancing every thirty seconds at the barricaded door. Jack was having a hard time concentrating on finding Estelle. He would get flustered in the middle of a conversation with a contact, and swore twice as much. Geoff’s appearance was more frazzled than usual. His usually pristine moustache was wiry and ungroomed. His normally rumpled suit was looking simply dishevelled. The atmosphere in the penthouse was leaden. Without Gavin’s brightness, bizarre questions, and alarmed squawks, the place actually felt like the headquarters for the head gang of Achievement City. Jeremy was beginning to seriously consider taking Michael up on his offer to rig Gavin’s door with plastic explosives.

 

“Here,” said Jeremy.

Jack looked up from where he was staring at the TV. The news was on, but Jack had no idea what they’d just been talking about. Jeremy handed him a laptop. On the screen there was a bright design. Jeremy had put the word ‘lost’ in huge, bold letters over one of the pet-shaming pictures he and Michael had snapped.

“You wanna put up flyers to try to find Vagabond?” Jack asked.

Jeremy sighed. “It’s the only thing I can think of doing - It’s stupid I know…”

“On the contrary. What contact number are you going to put on it?”

Jeremy brightened. “Oh, uh, I hadn’t gotten that far.”

“Hang on - we’ll get one of the burner phones. We can use that. Take the flyer down to Steffie. She’ll be able to print out a couple of hundred. We can put them up when we go out.”

Jeremy grinned and followed Jack to the storage room.

Geoff wandered into the hallway. There was an empty bottle of bourbon in his grasp. He looked at Gavin’s door. He’d given up trying to break it down. Geoff continued into the living room, heading for the bar. He paused when he saw Jeremy’s laptop. He scrolled down a little to where Jeremy had typed in ‘$3,000 reward’. He sighed, and added another zero.

 

“Gav! Come on! Open up!” Jeremy yelled. “I know you’re awake in there! Facebook messages have read receipts - I know you saw it!”

As usual, there was silence from within the bedroom.

“Come on, Gavin… Please. The crew’s not the same without you.”

“Hey asshole!”

Jeremy turned to see a grinning, but pale looking Micheal walking stiffly towards him.

“Michael - you still need bedrest!” Jeremy rushed forwards to grab Michael’s arm, slinging it over his shoulders. Michael shoved him away.

“Fuck bedrest. I was going insane down there. I need to get out and do something,” he said. He thrust out his hands. He was holding a huge stack of violently coloured flyers.

“I want to help,” he said.

Jeremy took the stack. “Oh shit… I didn’t mean for the reward to be that much,” he said.

“That was me,” Geoff called, striding in the door. He looked exhausted, but determined. “I’ll help too.”

The two lads grinned at him.

“What can I say… I kind of miss the fucker. He was fun to have around. Good conversationalist and whatnot. Oh, and I guess Vagabond was too,” Geoff said.

This garnered some sniggers.

“Come on, you idiot! You won’t get him back sitting and sulking in there! We’re leaving to put these up, with or without you!” Michael yelled at the wooden door. He grabbed a flyer off the top of the stack in Jeremy’s arms and shoved it through the gap at the bottom. They turned to leave, but paused when they heard a soft scrabbling noise. There was a grunt, and the whine of something heavy being slid across the floor. Finally, Gavin opened the door. He was almost as pale as Michael under his tanned skin, and there were bleak shadows under his eyes. He blinked owlishly at them, the flyer in his hands.

“I’d never even thought of doing that…” he said.

“Moron,” said Michael, grabbing his arm and pulling him in for a hug.

Gavin looked at Geoff over the lad’s shoulder.

“I thought you didn’t like Ryan,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

Geoff shrugged. “Well, you do. And that’s what matters.”

Jack emerged from his room and ran forward when he saw them huddled around Gavin, pulling the young hacker in for a bone crushing hug too.

“Jack - I still have holes in me,” wheezed Michael, as he’d also been caught in Jack’s embrace. The bearded man chuckled and let them go.

“Gavin, you son of a bitch. What do you think you’ve been doing, locked up in there?” Geoff roared once he’d finished hugging Gavin for himself. Gavin disentangled himself and shoved the door open again. The floor was littered with Redbull cans and takeaway boxes. They stared around a the carnage as Gavin waded over to his monitoring station.

“I was worried you’d starved to death,” said Jack. “How on earth did you get all this? We watched your room - you haven’t come out once!”

Gavin flapped a hand at the wall of windows. A bed sheet was taped over huge hole carefully cut into the glass. Gavin’s camera drone was sitting beside it on a leaning tower of pizza boxes.

“Cutting down on delivery costs. Very thrifty,” said Jeremy.

Gavin was at his computer station, currently shutting down a bunch of windows.

“I was looking through all the cameras to see if I could find him. And I was keeping an eye on any police reports, or any reports coming in from animal control. Also, I’ve been contacting every pound or animal shelter from here to Paleto Bay hourly with his description. I hadn’t even thought to put up flyers…”

“What cameras?” Jack asked, moving closer to the screen.

“Ah, all of them,” said Gavin.

“All of the ones at our properties?”

“Uh, no. I mean all of the cameras. In the city,” Gavin mumbled. He rubbed his eyes. The other four just stared at him.

“Well, shit. Come on then,” Michael said, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the door.

“You’re only one pair of, admittedly fucking insane, eyes. With these up, and a great incentive, we’ll have thousands out all over the city keeping a peeper out for him.”

Gavin nodded, the ghost of a smile on his face and let Michael drag him out.

There was a bark. All five men froze.

“Was that…?” asked Jeremy, putting a finger in the air.

And another bark. This one was accompanied with a scream and then some sobbing. The five crew members scrambled towards the door of the penthouse. Jeremy was the nimblest and got there first. He yanked the door open. The hallway beyond was smeared with bloody pawprints. A deep, rumbling growl resonated through the room. The sobbing was coming from a slight woman who was currently trying to crawl away. She was filthy. Her clothes were ripped and dirty and her hair was matted with blood. Numerous scratches and cuts covered her skin. Also covered in blood and grime, teeth clamped around her leg was-

“Ryan!” Gavin yelped and barrelled through the Fakes. He slipped a little in the blood on the floor and dropped to his knees beside the dog.

There were multiple astonished curses from the crew.

“Holy fuck! Where the fuck has he been? And who the fuck is that?” yelled Geoff.

Gavin put a hand tentatively on Vagabond’s shoulder. The big dog didn’t let go of his victim, but his eyes flickered over to Gavin’s face, bright and clear. The woman, upon hearing Geoff’s voice had turned to look at him. She turned even paler under all the dirt and blood and redoubled her efforts to get away. She kicked out weakly at Vagabond who dodged away lazily.

“Holy shit, Geoff. I think that’s Estelle,” said Jack, gaping at the woman.

Geoff did a double take.

“Shit on my dick! It is! We’ve been looking for that bitch everywhere!”

“Ryan knew! Ryan knew who’d done it! He knew and he went looking for her. He brought her back just for us,” Gavin crowed, grinning at the dog.

“How the fuck did he know that?” Michael asked. He was still staring open-mouthed at the scene.

“‘Cos he’s smart. Aren’t you Ry-bread?”

Vagabond rolled his eyes.

Jack and Jeremy started forward and grabbed Estelle by the arms. She tried to throw them off, but was so weak and shaky they were able to drag her up with ease. Vagabond released her leg when they had her firmly in hand. He licked his chops and then he and the rest of the crew followed Jack and Jeremy as they frogmarched the stumbling woman inside. They tied Estell up and locked her in the purpose-made interrogation room. The penthouse was big, and they occasionally needed a room for… certain activities. It was tiled with a drainage hole in one corner. A faucet and a hose made cleanup a lot easier. This done, they all turned to Vagabond. Gavin had barely spared a glance at Estelle, instead lavishing his attention on the dog. Vagabond had sat in the middle of the living room and looked to be tolerating Gavin’s affections with a slight doggy smile on his face. Gavin was doing what he did with practically every animal he came across and was putting his hands on either side of Vagabond’s head and ‘smooshing’ his face together. Eventually Vagabond butted the lad’s hands away and knocked him on his ass with a well placed swipe. Gavin squawked and giggled on the floor. The others gathered around.

“You had us worried, dude!” Jeremy said, crouching down next to Vagabond too.

Vagabond for his part just huffed and pushed past them all. He padded to the interrogation room door and then looked pointedly at the crew. Jack laughed.

“He doesn’t like to mess around, does he?”

“To business then,” Geoff said, clapping his hands together.


	7. Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> The crew tries to make Estelle talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Torture.

They always kept the interrogation room purposefully cold. Geoff had always found that this loosened their guest’s tongues a little quicker. When they were trying not to shiver in cold as well as pain, it was slightly easier to break them.

When Geoff and Jack entered the room Estelle was still sitting right where they’d left her. Michael had wanted to be here, but had been ordered back to bed after he’d gone way too pale and clammy. Jeremy and Gavin had escorted him back to the medical wing.

Jack checked Estelle’s restraints and then went and stood in the corner of the room behind her while Geoff sat down in the chair opposite her. She didn’t move when he took out a knife and began cleaning his fingernails with it. She stared resolutely at the opposite wall. Geoff harrumphed.

“I’m impressed, you know,” he said. “Not many people have the balls to cross me. And then to hide so successfully from me… You had us going for quite a while there.”

Estelle said nothing. Geoff leant forwards, fixing his tired-looking eyes on hers.

“And you know the reason why not many people have such big, brass balls?” he asked.

Estelle ignored him.

“Hey, it’s rude to not look at someone when you’re having a conversation with them,” Geoff said, snapping his fingers. Estelle didn’t flinch. Geoff sat back again. He chewed at his lip.

“See, what I just don’t get is why you’d do this. We have been loyal customers for quite a while now. Why would you go and throw that all away now?”

The only sound in the room was the soft dripping of blood from the wound on Estelle’s leg. Geoff sighed.

“You could have made this easy, you know. I am trying to be polite here. Really trying,” Geoff said. His voice was low. When Geoff was angry, it would go high and tight and crack like he was thirteen years old again. However, when he was truly furious, it would go low and quiet. The cold, monotone would steal into it, freezing his genial blue eyes. His knuckles creaked as they tightened around his knife. He saw Jack’s fingers twitch too.

“I would have tried to be nice… But your little stunt nearly cost one of my boys his life. I  _ might  _ have been able to forgive you going to our competitors, but that…” Geoff shook his head and ran a shaky tattooed hand through his hair. He lunged forward suddenly, the knife flicking up to meet the corner of Estelle’s mouth. She drew in a sharp breath, but refused to react further. Geoff frowned.

“Why the sudden switch in loyalty?” he asked.

Finally Estelle looked up at him. She smiled grimly.

“It’s nothing to do with loyalty,” she said. He voice was hoarse and weak. “Edgar knows I double crossed him too. I know that you will kill me. Edgar won’t. Not for a quite a while at least…” Estelle shivered.

“You should have left while you had the chance,” Geoff said.

Estelle rolled her eyes at him.

“Well. You seem to understand your situation pretty well. Surely there’s no harm in telling me everything you know about Edgar then,” Geoff said brightly and threw himself back into his chair. “It’ll save you the pain of me trying to drag it out of you before you die.”

Estelle looked away. Geoff levelled his knife at her.

“No?” he asked. She didn’t respond.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked.

Estelle said nothing.

Geoff got to his feet and crossed to the wall. There stood a very ordinary looking tool cabinet. Most of the draws also help some very ordinary looking tools. Geoff hummed as he picked through them. He passed a small, remote control-sized object to Jack and then went back to his chair. He caught Estelle straining to see what they were doing out of the corner of her eyes before they flicked back to the opposite wall.

“Now. I’m going to ask you a question. If I have to repeat my question, we will provide, ah,  _ encouragement _ .” Geoff fixed the woman with a steady look. “Where is Edgar?”

Estelle remained silent. Geoff cleared his throat.

“Where is Edgar?”

The hair-raising rapid click of a taser echoed in the mostly empty room. Estelle didn’t move. Geoff gave a nod and Jack stepped forwards, thrusting the taser at Estelle’s shoulder. She hissed and recoiled, her muscles tensing from the electricity. After a few seconds, Jack pulled the device from her skin. She swallowed hard and rearranged herself in her chair. Geoff tilted his head.

“Where is Edgar?” he repeated.

Estelle continued to stare at the opposite wall. Geoff nodded to Jack again who stepped closer. The device clicked menacingly and Estelle moaned as it made contact with her flesh.

“Is this too tame for you, my dear?” Geoff asked as Jack took the taser away again.

Estelle sat up, setting her jaw and staring ahead. Geoff frowned again. He gestured for Jack to follow him out of the room. They closed the door behind them.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Jack said immediately.

“Yeah, I was getting that feeling too,” said Geoff.

“She has nothing to protect. She has no one to rescue her. She’s sorely mistaken if she thinks I’m going to let her go free. And even if we did, she said that she believes Edgar would get her better than we could. She knows we have to kill her. Why is she not talking?” asked Jack.

Geoff rubbed his chin.

“Maybe she just doesn’t know anything?” he said.

“Then she’d be screaming that instead of taking the taser bursts,” Jack said.

“It could just be a pride thing…” Geoff said with a shrug. “If so, then we should just kill her and get this over with.”

“I definitely think there’s more to it than that.”

“She  _ has  _ to be covering for Edgar. It’s the only thing that would make sense,” Geoff said. 

“Do you think he’s offered her something to join him?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“She  _ is _ loyal to him then,” said Jack.

“Then we’ll just have to up the ante. Aw man. I don’t like torture. Especially girls,” Geoff said, stamping his foot.

Jack took his shoulder gently. “Remember, she nearly got Michael killed.”

Geoff’s face turned sour. “I’m gonna kill that bitch…” he muttered.

Jack chuckled.

 

However, after a few hours, and about of pint of blood on the neat, grey tiled floor, Estelle had not revealed a thing. Geoff stormed out of the room, Jack following shortly. He threw himself down on the couch.

“Jeremy can you-” Jeremy pushed a glass of whiskey into his hand. He set the bottle on the coffee table next to Geoff.

“Thanks J,” Geof said, taking a gulp.

Gavin wandered over and curled up on the couch next to Geoff.

“How’s Michael?” the boss asked.

“He’s sleeping. His walk from the medical wing up here made him nearly pass out. Lil J and me put him in his room,” Gavin said. Vagabond came and sat at the foot of the couch.

Jack clattered about in the kitchen. They heard him start to make dinner. Once, Gavin would have been weirded out by the sudden switch from cold criminal to house-husband, but that was basically an everyday thing in the Fake AH penthouse.

“We’ll try again after food,” Geoff said. “This bitch is the closest we’ve come to getting some real dirt on Edgar in a long time.”

Gavin nodded. Geoff pulled him close and put an arm around him. He knew that the lad got squeamish when it came to torture. He gagged at an alarming lot actually, the weirdest of which was wet bread.

“I know you will Geoff,” said Gavin.

 

It was three days later and Estelle had still not spilled a word.

“Are we not going hard enough on her or something?” Geoff yelled. It was the middle of the night. The lads were all asleep in their own apartments. Jack was tending to his bloodied knuckles on the kitchen bench. Geoff waved his nearly empty bottle at him.

“Seriously! I’m running out of fucking ideas here! Short of buying an iron-maiden on Amazon, I have no idea what else to do to her!”

Jack just rubbed his face. “I don’t either Geoff. Perhaps we should think about offering her money for the information?”

“Fuck…” Geoff said, letting his arms fall to his sides. “It might be too late for that.”

Jack sighed. “Whatever we do, let’s just do it in the morning?”

“Sure…” muttered Geoff. Jack clapped a hand on his shoulder and headed for his room. Geoff flopped down on the couch and continued to drink in the dark. A shadowy shape moved up beside him. Blue eyes practically glowed in the darkness.

“Do you have any ideas?” Geoff asked him.

Vagabond huffed.

“Stupid question…” Geoff said and took another swig. He gritted his teeth and forced himself up. He clattered into the interrogation room, slamming the door behind him. The light was much too bright in here. They left in on in an attempt to deprive Estelle of her sleep. She looked groggily up at Geoff.

“That’s it…” he began muttering. “No more nice Geoff. I usually have Jack in here to keep me in check. Stop me going too far. He’s great you know. Like the little angel on my shoulder. He has a moral compass and all that shit. Without him here… Who knows? I might go a little overboard…” Geoff put his bottle down none too gently on the tool chest and searched through it. He swayed on his feet. He pulled out a small bag. It was a basic sewing kit with a few tiny spools of thread, little scissors and other bits and bobs. Geoff fished within it for the brightly coloured wheel of pins. He grinned slyly. He tossed the rest of the bag to the side and advanced on Estelle.

“Pins. Tiny, but if applied in the right way, oh so effective. Don’t you think?” He was slurring his words now. He looked almost comical with his tongue between his teeth as he fumbled to pull a pin from the wheel. Estelle ignored him as usual. Geoff hovered over her, trying to decide where to stick his new toy first. He trailed the tip of the pin jerkily down the skin of Estelle’s arm, coming to rest at her fingertips.

“Ah… a twist on an old classic,” he said. “Such pretty nails…” He clapped a hand over hers, holding it flat to the arm of the chair and teased the tip of the pin in between the nail of her pinky finger and the skin.

“Where is Edgar?” Geoff demanded.

Estelle was silent.

“You’re going to make me ask again…”Geoff growled. The sound was echoed back to him. There was a scratch at the door. Estelle flinched. Geoff let her go in surprise. He stared at the woman as she hastily recomposed herself. She shivered audibly, her chains rattling as the scratching sounds continued. Geoff went to the door and opened it. Vagabond stalked inside. He looked huge in the small room. His dark fur seemed to suck in the light. His blue eyes were fixed on Estelle. The woman stared at him. In the whole time that she’d been here, Geoff had not seen her pay attention to something for more than a few seconds. He grinned.

“You’re scared of him? You’re scared of the fucking dog?”

Estelle said nothing. Vagabond circled around behind the prisoner. She craned her neck in a desperate effort to keep him in sight. She was shaking even more now.

“Please…” she whispered.

“What was that?” Geoff asked, moving to sit in his chair. Vagabond continued circling them. Estelle kept watching him.

“Please take it away… Please get rid of it…” she whimpered.

“All this torture and the thing you’re really afraid of is dogs! I can’t believe this!” Geoff laughed.

“I am not afraid of dogs! I’m not!” Estelle’s voice was high and wavering now. “I’m not scared of dogs! But  _ that _ … that thing is not a dog. I don’t know what it is, but it is not a dog!”

Vagabond continued circling them, moving closer with every lap. Eventually he stopped, directly behind Estelle. She nearly had a fit trying to shift in her seat trying to get him in view again. Eventually she screwed her eyes shut and hunched down as far as she could.

“That is not a dog… that’s a  _ demon _ …” she whispered.

Geoff stared at her, mouth open slightly. He leant around to look at Vagabond. The dog was sitting down behind her, his blue eyes boring into the back of her head.

“What did he do?” Geoff asked.

“It found me… It found me and chased me. No matter how far or fast I ran, it was there… I would try and get in a car and it would bite me… It chased me away from anyone who would have been able to help. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. It was always right there. Right behind me. That thing… that thing is not right!” Estelle’s eyes snapped open. “Get it away! Please get it away from me! I’ll do anything! Please!” she wailed.

“Anything?” asked Geoff, raising an eyebrow.

Vagabond snarled and snapped. Estelle screamed.

“ _ Anything! _ ”

 

Geoff extracted as much information as he could from Estelle. He thought her confessions would never end once she’d started. He was lucky they always had a camera in here just in case - he was way too drunk to remember any of this. When it seemed Estelle had finally run out of words, she fell silent. She was still shivering. Her restraints rattled against the cold metal chair. Geoff sat opposite her, hand on chin, brow furrowed.

“You know Edgar was just using you, right?” he said.

Estelle hung her head.

“I know…” she mumbled.

“Bit stupid really,” Geoff said.

Estelle sighed shakily. “I’ve told you everything. Can… can you please get rid of it now?”

Geoff got up and went to the door. Without having to say anything, Vagabond got up and followed him. The dog slipped out and Geoff shut the door behind him. Geoff returned to his chair. Estelle continued to stare at the floor.

“What am I going to do with you now…” Geoff muttered more to himself than anything. “See, I really should kill you now. You’re no longer useful to the crew. We have all your information. You know where our base of operations is. If I let you go, you could bring the world down around my ears. Because of your actions, one of my closest was nearly killed…” He ran a hand through his hair.

“I wouldn’t say anything… I promise…” Estelle said softly.

Geoff stared at her.

“I’d leave. I’d leave the country. I’ll get a new name - new everything. I won’t be any trouble. Just let me go now please…” she said.

Geoff sighed. “Alright,” he said. “Alright. Just this once. If I ever see, or hear from you ever again, you’re a dead woman. Understand that?”

Estelle nodded once.

“We will hunt you down. You’re right in saying there’s something different about Vagabond. He’s not like any dog I’ve ever seen. I’m betting he could track your scent anywhere… so just remember that…” Geoff said. Estelle flinched. Geoff stood up and fished a ring of keys out of his pocket. He walked around Estelle and began releasing her. She stood up and rubbed her arms. Geoff had his gun out and trained on her in an instant.

“I’ll get Gavin to do you up new papers and a passport and stuff. Unless you have contacts…?”

Estelle managed a smile. “I’ll be fine. I didn’t just deal in weapons.” She bit her lip. “So you’re really going to let me go?”

“Hey, I’m an asshole, but I’m not a bad guy. You gave us your info on Edgar. You’ve agreed to leave. Michael is alive and recovering well.”

“You seem really hung up on this Michael kid. I’ve heard it’s not safe to get close to anyone in this business. I had a partner turn on me a year or so back,” Estelle said. Geoff didn’t notice her moving a fraction closer. He frowned.

“We’re close. All of the crew are close. He’s… he’s like - we’re loyal in the Fakes,” Geoff said. Estelle inched closer.

“Geoff. I really am sorry about all this. How could I possibly thank you for letting me go?” she asked softly. She looked up at Geoff through her lashes. Her grey eyes and pixie cut gave her a rather fey-like appearance. Geoff blinked and then laughed.

“If you’re implying what I think you are then first: I would never. I’m much too gentlemanly. And secondly… Well, I don’t bat for that team.”

Estelle’s shy smile dropped and she wrinkled her nose. She had gotten within arms reach now. It was Geoff’s turn to narrow his eyes. One would think that the alcohol would have significantly reduced his reaction times, but it didn’t bother him now as Estelle struck. She lunged for his gun and he whipped it out of the way, bringing up his other arm to block.

“What the fuck!” he shouted and ducked away from the punch she swung in his direction. The kick caught him in the ribs though, crushing his breath from his lungs with an  _ oof _ .

“There’s only one way Edgar will forgive me now,” Estelle growled.

Geoff stumbled towards one soundproofed wall, desperately trying to draw breath and turned to block the next flurry of attacks.

“If you’re dead, my talking is moot. He might even promote me! With you out of the way, there’d be nothing stopping Edgar!”

Whenever he tried to level the gun, Estelle was there knocking it away or scrabbling for it herself.

“You can go fuck yourself if you think you can get out of this tower alive,” Geoff yelled.

“Give me the gun Ramsey!” Estelle shouted, blocking him when he tried for the door. He jabbed with an elbow and she snapped out a palm into his nose. They both cried out and reeled back. Geoff fired wildly but she’d ducked to the side, slipping around behind him and slinging an arm around his neck. Geoff silently cursed the room’s soundproofing. Jack wouldn’t have heard the shots from his room. He wouldn’t be able to help. Geoff was on his own. No stranger to chokeholds, Geoff stepped to the side, bringing the butt of the gun down on Estelle’s thigh. She managed to avoid the elbow to the chin but her hold was broken and he managed to pull away. He had height and weight on his side, but she was obviously extremely well trained. He just needed a second. A second where he could line up a shot. Estelle was just so damn fast. He’d counted his bullets. He was down to three in his clip. She’d never give him the time to reload. He fired again as she lunged for the door herself but he missed twice. She roared and sprang away, throwing herself at him in a flurry of spinning kicks. He couldn’t avoid all of them and was pushed back. He shoved at her, catching her shoulders and making space between them. Her teeth were bared, her eyes narrowed and she rocked forwards. An unearthly howl met their ears. Estelle gasped. She froze and her eyes slid from Geoff to the door. It was just an instant, but he took it.

Estelle looked almost surprised. Her mouth hung open in a small ‘o’. A little blood trickled down over her eye from the bullet hole in her forehead. The sound of her body crumpling to the ground was soft compared to the gunshot. Geoff’s knuckles were white as he lowered the gun. He cursed richly and stormed out of the room. He headed straight for the liquor shelf. Shelf was really an understatement for the amount of alcohol it house though. Jeremy had coined the term ‘Liquor Library’. Geoff staunchly refused to use it, firstly because it was stupid, and secondly because he was in denial that he was that much of an alcoholic. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey then looked around for a moment. Deciding it was too much effort to find a glass, he slumped down in his chair and slugged the bottle straight. The hand that gripped the armrest shook. Geoff jumped when Vagabond appeared at his side. The dog’s white face looked like an apparition floating in the dark.

“Fuck, don’t do that,” Geoff snapped.

Vagabond huffed. Geoff settled back in his chair. He took another swig.

“Thanks for your help, I guess,” Geoff said to the dog. He felt stupid talking to the animal, but who fucking cared. There was no one to hear him. The white face bobbed in the darkness. Vagabond then bent down to collect something from near his feet. Geoff saw the moonlight reflect off the shiny surface of the black skull mask. Vagabond crossed in front of Geoff and headed for his bedroom. Geoff frowned.

“Wait a second… that mask…” he said slowly. Vagabond froze and turned back. His blue eyes were bright. Geoff pointed his bottle at the dog. 

“Are you…? Could you be...? Are you actually  _ him? _ ” Geoff said.

Vagabond pricked his ears up.

Geoff then shook his head. “No. That’s stupid. I’m being stupid. How could you possibly be… No. I’ve just had way too much to drink. I think I should sleep now…”

Geoff let the bottle drop to the floor and his head lolled backwards. Within seconds, he was snoring. Vagabond huffed again and rolled his eyes.


	8. Unto the Breach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> The crew uses Estelle's info to finally track down Edgar.

Estelle’s body was disposed of the next day. Michael was up again and glared at anyone who dare to stop him hobble about. If the saying ‘looks could kill’ were true, the Jersey lad would have definitely racked up a new personal best body count. The crew gathered in the penthouse upon hearing the news that Geoff had managed to get some information out of Estelle. The man slapped down a fresh map of Achievement City.

“Alright folks. This is what we’ve got. Safe houses here, here, here… and a bunch here. Main base of operations is down at the lumberyards about here,” Geoff said, marking all the different spots. Safehouses in black, and a big red ‘X’ for Edgar’s headquarters. Excited grins were shared around the table. Michael cracked his knuckles in glee.

“Fucking finally,” he growled.

“You and me both,” said Geoff, “We are finally going to take that cow-faced, milk-breathed, inordinate jackass down.”

“He has a donkey’s ass?” Gavin piped up. Michael shoved him playfully.

“Nah, he’s more bull-headed,” said Jeremy.

“A right bovine bastard,” added Gavin.

“A cow-ardly fuck,” said Jeremy. “Udderly pretentious! A terri-bull human being…”

“Enough with the fucking cow puns! They weren’t funny the first time you said them!” shrieked Geoff. The lads giggled.

“ _ You mean they were una-moo-sing… _ ” Jeremy whispered. Everyone except Geoff roared with laughter. Geoff sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“I could… I could just fire all of them… Or kill them… It’d be easy...” he mumbled to himself.

“All right. Quiet down everyone,” said Jack. The crew composed themselves and turned back to Geoff. He smoothed his moustache.

“Okay. We know where he is. We know who some of his people are even. This is the best shot we’ve ever had. And we have to move quickly. He’ll have already noticed Estelle’s disappearance. Edgar is smart. If he thinks someone has spilled his secrets, he’ll be underground in a flash.”

There were murmurs of agreement all around. Geoff thudded a fist on the centre of the map.

“But, fuck. We are going to get this son of a bitch. Finally.”

The crew cheered. Vagabond joined them, barking loudly.

 

There was a lot they had to get ready. Geoff sent the crew out all hours of the day and night to buy all sorts of supplies and do reconnaissance. They were barely at the penthouse anymore. When they were it was to sit bleary eyed in the shower and then collapse into bed. They were so busy that Gavin nearly missed the spike in Vagabond’s erratic behaviours. The dog didn’t seem to want to sleep anymore. He carried the mask around everywhere. Gavin had passed him several times staring into a mirror or some other reflective surface.

There came an increase in destroyed objects around the penthouse. Vagabond had moved on from pillows to expensive technology. To his dismay, Gavin found his keyboard on the floor near his desk, several keys knocked out and chewed. He computer mouse had been pulled from its socket. Laptops around the apartment met similar fates. Even the Xbox wasn’t spared. Geoff scolded Vagabond harshly for the destruction but stopped after a few minutes. Normally a pet would look ashamed that it had done something wrong. Vagabond never looked ashamed. Instead he just looked miserable. The technology rampage did stop, but Vagabond moved onto pens then. The markers in the heist room had bite marks. They had to tape desk drawers shut. At one point they found the stack of board games the crew had stashed in a cupboard strewn all over the floor. Vagabond had watched sadly as Gavin had packed up the Monopoly, Cluedo, and Risk boxes again.

They never shut the door to Vagabond’s room completely so that the dog could come and go as he pleased. On more than one occasion Gavin had heard strange sounds coming from it. 

Gavin crept up to the dark crack and listened intently. Vagabond was growling softly. There was a pattern to the noises. The same sounds over and over again.

_ “Chay, rack. Chay rack. Chay rack…” _

Gavin pushed into the room. Vagabond quieted and looked up at him. He had the mask with him as he usually did. Gavin walked over and sat on the bed next to him.

“You okay Ry?” he asked.

Vagabond huffed and laid his head on the bed. Gavin petted him gently on the shoulder.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you acting weird. If there’s something up, you show us, okay?”

Vagabond sat up and stared intently into Gavin's eyes. He whimpered. Gavin cocked his head.

“You’re a real strange mutt, you know that right?”

Vagabond chuffed and rolled his entire head at the comment and turned away. Gavin bit his lip as he got up and left the room.

 

Vagabond accompanied Gavin and Jeremy the next day on a scouting mission. They were supposed to go and check out one of Edgar’s many safehouses and see if they could plant any further surveillance equipment around it. Gavin could access the street cameras and the ATM camera down the street, but those were all pretty shitty quality. The hacker had brought some higher-end cameras with him. They had micro-solar batteries to power them and were practically invisible when installed correctly. They spent hours in Jeremy’s non-descript white sedan just watching the safehouse for any activity. At about noon, they decided it was safe enough to sneak about and install some of the surveillance equipment. This task done, they headed back to the car.

“God. I’m starving,” moaned Jeremy as they slid back into the car. Vagabond rumbled in reply.

“I could do with some food,” Gavin said, already tapping away on the thin laptop he’d brought with him.

“Any preferences?” Jeremy asked, coaxing the car to life. Gavin didn’t reply. His sharp eyes flickered over the laptop screen. He was already lost in the lines of code.

“Tacos it is!” said Jeremy and pulled away from the kerb. Vagabond woofed happily.

 

They pulled up at a local Mexican food joint and Jeremy prodded Gavin again.

“What do you want to order?” he asked. The hacker was still absorbed in his programming and barely gave a “Hm?”

“I’ll just get your usual and some extra if the guys want any when we get back,” Jeremy said and got out. He locked the door behind him. Vagabond watched him go, a string of drool dripping down the seat where he rested his head. After a few minutes Gavin finished typing and shut the laptop. He blinked and looked around.

“Bloody hell. Where are we?” he said.

Vagabond chuffed.

“What’re you laughing at?” Gavin asked, giving him a shove. The Brit grinned and looked out the car window. He craned his teck trying to see the rather shorter form of Jeremy in the crowd. He froze. Vagabond watched as the lanky Brit seemed to push himself back in his seat. His eyes remained locked on a pair of people a few feet in front of Jeremy. The taller man had windswept blonde hair and tight jeans. The other was slightly shorter and broader. His dark hair was slicked back and he wore an expensive looking black coat over a casual graphic tee. The pair chatted and laughed together. The brunette let his hand slip around the blonde’s waist as they collected their food and left the restaurant. Gavin’s Adam's apple bobbed as they passed by the car. Jeremy returned shortly after. He chortled as he hopped back in the car, dumping bags of food onto Gavin’s lap.

“Back on earth now Gav?” he asked.

“Wot?” Gavin said, looking around wildly. Jeremy raised an eyebrow.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Gav didn’t respond. He turned and stared out the window.

 

Vagabond found the blonde lad the next day curled up on the penthouse balcony. He was sitting on the ground, wedged between a large potted plant and the glass railing. His forehead was pressed up against the barrier and he was staring at his phone. He jumped when Vagabond approached and stuffed the phone into his hoodie pocket.

“Hey Ry,” he said. The smile he gave was not convincing in any manner. Vagabond sat down and immediately nosed the phone Gavin had hidden away. Gavin slapped his hand over his pocket. Vagabond fixed him with that piercing blue stare.

“What?” Gavin snapped.

Vagabond growled. Gavin leapt to his feet and edged past the dog.

“Leave me alone!”

Geoff stuck his head out the door. “What the fuck are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be halfway across town with Mica checking out that contact!” Geoff slammed the glass door shut. Gavin was surprised it didn’t shatter. He glanced once more at Vagabond and scuttled away.

 

Gavin went with Mica to the meeting, but afterwards told her had somewhere else to be. He caught a cab downtown. He forewent his trademark gold shades for a ratty old hoodie. He got the cab to drop him off on a corner where a karaoke bar met a chinese food store. He found a park bench and sat on it then pulled out his phone. Every thirty seconds he would look up, but would always return to his phone. A yellow cab pulled out of the late afternoon traffic and deposited two men on the sidewalk. The brunette was missing his black coat and the blonde was wearing shorts today instead. Gavin tensed with his phone in his hand. He pretended to scroll through something, but was watching the pair out of the corner of his eye. They disappeared inside the apartment building. Gavin continued to sit on his bench, oblivious of anyone who walked past. The shadows of the skinny trees that lined the sidewalk grew long, their spindly, dry twigs casting dark, grasping fingers along the footpath. The door of the apartment building opened again and the couple walked out. The brunette had his arm around the blonde’s waist again. They laughed as they headed up the street. Gavin unglued himself from the bench seat and hurried after them.

They walked a few blocks down to where a tiny park was wedged between two office buildings. They stood in line at the food stand there and after getting some burgers and fries, sat in the park and ate together. Gavin chose a seat not too far away, being careful to angle himself away and keep his hood up. He continued to pretend to look at his phone. The small device shook in his hands. Such was his concentration that he didn’t notice the presence behind him. Gavin let out a startled noise when he felt something brush past his side. He immediately clapped a hand to his mouth and looked around wildly. Vagabond looked like an inkblot in the park, casting shame on all the other shadows. The dog stared at him with narrowed eyes.

“Bloody hell! You scared me!” Gavin hissed. “What are you doing here? How did you get out of the tower? Go home!”

Vagabond raised an eyebrow.

Gavin flapped a hand at him. “I said go! Leave me alone you big, black bastard!”

Vagabond snarled. Gavin flinched and pressed himself back against the seat, quickly stuffing his phone in his pocket again. His green eyes flickered anxiously from the big dog to the pair of men.

“Please be quiet,” Gavin whispered as Vagabond continued to rumble ominously. The dog ignored him and his hackles began to raise. The volume of his growls increased and he took a step towards Gavin. The lad curled up in his chair.

“Oh god! Please don’t hurt me! I’m not doing anything shifty, I swear! I just… yesterday I…” Gavin went limp, eyes downcast. He slipped his phone back out of his pocket again and navigated to the Twitter app. It was open on the profile of the dark-haired man sitting across the park. Gavin sighed.

“We used to date. It was a recent thing. Messy breakup,” he said quietly. Immediately Vagabond backed down. He sat on his haunches and stared curiously at Gavin. The lad ran a hand through his hair.

“I was a bloody mong. He didn’t know I was in the Fakes. I guess that ate up a lot of my time with him. We had whole arguments about how we never spent enough time together. I liked him so much though! You know how hard it is for me to open up to someone like that? I’m terrified that they’ll just stop liking me one day. I guess I kind of thought that maybe… maybe he was cheating on me. I went a little overboard. I had all these security cameras installed and our conversations always ended up with us sniping at each other about where we’d been.” Gavin buried his face in his hands. “It’s just so hard to have a relationship with normal people now. The chick I was dating before him got scared when she found out I was in the crew. She up and left without a word. It’s just… And then! If it was hard with normal people, then it’s damn near impossible to date someone who’s already in this business. You never feel comfortable. You’re always looking over your shoulder…”

Vagabond stared at him, blue eyes big and round. He leant forward slowly and licked Gavin’s face. Gavin screwed his nose up.

“Ew, Ry, what was that for?” he said, wiping the slobber off his cheek with his hoodie sleeve.

Now it was Vagabond’s turn to look shifty. A small smile crept up on the Brit’s face.

“Aw, lovely Ryan. Trying to make me feel better,” he said and petted Ryan’s neck. Ryan avoided eye contact, instead gazing at Gavin’s phone. He slowly turned to stare at the brunette sitting across from them. Gavin could feel a dangerous rumble ignite within the huge dog’s chest. He looked from Vagabond to the man and back.

“Oh! No, no, Ryan. Don’t do that. He’s just a normal bloke! He’s done nothing wrong, really!” Gavin said, waving his arms around. Vagabond gave him a calculating look.

“Seriously. Don’t. Guy’d probably have a heart attack if a huge wolf-dog started stalking him,” Gavin said, drawing Vagabond towards him and burying his face in the thick, soft fur. Vagabond looked alarmed at the sudden contact, but then relaxed into it. They sat like that as the park got darker around them. Gavin’s ex and the other man got up and left at some point. Lad and dog watched them go, but remained where they were sitting for quite a while longer.

 

Their planning progressed scarily fast. Sooner than they expected, everything was in place.

The penthouse was very quiet. Gavin felt too anxious to instigate his usual antics. Michael was subdued and nervous. Jeremy had been found on the roof cleaning all of his weapons for the third time. Jack was constantly on everyone’s case about getting more sleep, while he looked like he hadn't a wink. Vagabond was holding himself mostly in check, limiting his bouts of destruction. The dog seemed to know something was coming though. He’d sit for hours on end just staring out the windows of the penthouse. It was the definition of the calm before the storm.

D-day was upon them before they knew it. The crew gathered in the garage. It was incredibly early, but none of them complained. Jack had rings under his eyes. Jeremy and Gavin looked too pale. Vagabond seemed to be glued to the blonde lad’s side. Geoff was fiddling with his moustache and staring off into mid-distance. Jack cleared his throat. The boss-man snapped out of his reverie and looked around at his crew.

“I’m not going to lie,” he said. “This is our landing craft.” Geoff gestured around them at the garage. “This is our gunboat. Out there, is the English channel, and beyond that, the beaches of Normandy. Gentlemen, we are about to enter a war. There’s no other word for it. Today is a day that is going to test our crew. It is going to test our strength, our mettle, and our general badassery.” Geoff was beginning to pace. “There may have been squabbles and battles and slap fights before this, but this is the real thing. After today, Edgar will be no more.” Geoff paused and looked up. He locked eyes with each and every member of the crew, those tired grey-blue eyes alight with some determined spark. Unconsciously, the rest of the crew found themselves straightening and standing taller. Smiles curled at the corners of mouths and they nodded along imperceptibly.

“This is for all the times that cow-headed prick has fucked us over. This is for the time that he blew up the helicopter with three of us still in it. For the time that he sent paramilitary mercs to hunt us down. For the time that he stole our cargo and almost got Micahel killed…”

“For the time that he caught wind of what was supposed to be our biggest heist and tipped the cops off,” said Jack, his eyes flashing too.

“Yeah! And for the time he blew up our motorcycle club!” said Jeremy, shaking his fist.

“Rest in peace, Christpunchers…” said Geoff softly.

“What about the time when he fucking fired rockets at your yacht from the beach?” yelled Michael.

“Fuck! I forgot that was Edgar! Motherfucker!”

“And for that time he spray painted a penis on my Blista!”

Everyone stared at Gavin. Michael giggled.

“That might have been me…” he said.

Gavin’s mouth fell open and his eyes went wide. “But… you told me you saw… animal masks…”

Michael continued to chuckle.

“You bloody mingin- you arseing tosspot!” Gavin launched himself at the gleeful redhead and began smacking every inch he could reach, which wasn’t much. Michael held him at bay with ease. The rest of the crew laughed. When Gavin no longer had steam pouring from his ears, they all turned their attention back to Geoff. The tension had dissipated from the room. It had been replaced instead with an elastic anticipation. Geoff’s eyes crinkled as he smiled and rubbed his tattooed hands together.

“Alright men. Let’s hunt us some beef steak…”

The Fakes gave a cheer and headed for their vehicles. Gavin followed Geoff and got into the back of his car. Vagabond followed. The lad turned to the dog.

“Hey. You going to be okay?” he asked, giving him a scratch on the ear.

Vagabond hummed and moved his head out of the way. He looked out of the window. Gavin let his hand drop.

“I just know that there is something up between you and Edgar. I don’t know what that man did to you, or whether the Vagabond trained you to hate him or something, but I just hope you’ll be okay today…”

Vagabond finally turned to look at Gavin. He cocked his head, but then smiled in that canine way. The dog’s strangely blue eyes were bright and fierce. Gavin grinned.

“Good,” he said.

 

They all took separate routes to the airport. The late afternoon traffic that clogged the arteries of downtown Achievement City held up a couple of people, but eventually they all gathered in the private hangar. Jack strapped himself into the pilot’s seat of the cargobob while Geoff climbed into the copilot’s. The rest of the crew piled into the back. Geoff rattled off orders and Michael, Gavin and Jeremy did some final checks on the equipment that was already loaded on board. They were prepared - extremely so. Which was rather unusual for the Fake AH Crew. They were rather well known for their gung-ho, seat of the pants kinds of heists and getaways. This time though, no one wanted to be caught out. 

The sky was painted a burnished orange streaked with salmon and dusky purple as they rose with the dawn above the city. 

“Ahhh… There it is. Look at my city,” Geoff said. Any sense of quiet contemplation was lost over the fact that he had to practically shout to be heard over the rotor blades. Michael laughed.

“The whole city? Waddaya mean it’s your city?” he shouted.

“It’s kind of  _ our _ city,” said Jack.

Geoff stared stoically out the front windshield. “I control all of it!”

The crew laughed.

“Fuck you guys,” Geoff grumbled and reached forward to twiddle with the stereo. It was tinny and hard to hear over the chopper blades, but the unmistakeable sounds of Katy Perry singing her heart out to  _ Firework  _ filtered through the helicopter. Immediately the lads joined in, off key in various degrees. This made Jack grin and Geoff scowl even further. Vagabond barked in excitement and tried to howl along. 

“He’s singing too!” Gavin exclaimed, pointing at the dog who was tethered securely in the cargo bay. They’d long since found out that Vagabond was comfortable in any sort of vehicle - he even managed to keep his cool the time Michael decided to take him along in a stunt plane. He was just happy to be in anything that moved fast. Jack cut in.

“We’re nearly at the right altitude! Michael, are you ready with the detonators?”

“...‘ _ cause baby you’re a fiiirework… _ Yep! Sure am!” said the redhead, brandishing a laptop sized device that looked more like an audio mixer than anything.

“Oooh! Micoo! Can I push the big red button this time?” Gavin asked, sliding along the bench seat towards Michael.

“Fuck no!” he said, yanking the device out of Gavin’s range. “You know how long this took for us to set up? Knowing your track record, you’d blow us out of the sky!”

“But Micoo…” Gavin’s pout was truly something to behold. Michael just laughed.

“But nothing!”

“What’s up Gavin’s butt now?” Geoff asked.

Jeremy burst out laughing.

“Seriously though! Everyone get ready! I’ll check in with the ground team,” said Geoff. He switched channels in his headset and began barking orders at the B-Team who were currently spread out all over Achievement City.

“Ground team is ready, boys! Let’s get these motherfuckers!”

All eyes went to Michael. There was a dangerous glint in his eye and his cheeks were dimpled as he flicked the safety cover off the lovely, big red button in the corner of his control panel.

“Hey diddle diddle, Edgar’ll piddle, that bull is a big buffoon!” sang Jeremy.

“The scary dog laughed to see such fun,” Gavin chimed in, gesturing at Vagabond with a grin,

“And we’ll make that cow go boom!” cried Michael and pressed the button.

There was a second of relative silence. The lads all leant out of the open chopper doors and looked down at the city. Like a domino chain, there was a rapid succession of flashes throughout the city. Huge fireballs bloomed from the grey streets like mushrooms in timelapse footage, each centred on one of Edgar’s hidey-holes. They knew that to stamp Edgar and his people out completely, they needed to implement scorched-earth tactics. Hitting the Animal Farm as hard as possible, all at the same time would ensure they would have nowhere to run. The lads whooped and cheered, marvelling in the destruction that was being wrought upon the city. Michael seemed to be having a fit of ecstasy; Geoff had never let him blow up so many targets before.

“Hold on you lot!” Jack yelled. The sound of the explosions finally found them. The chopper juddered and rocked with the shockwaves, throwing the three crew members about in the bay.

“Everyone alright back there?” Jack asked, hands steady on the flightstick.

His words were met with laughter as the Michael picked himself up and Jeremy shoved Gavin onto the floor. The lanky Brit had landed on him.

“Gav… man, you got me in the jewels…” Jeremy groaned.

“Aw, Lil J! I didn’t mean it!”

“Bullseye Gavvers! Dooley’s Jewel-ies!” Michael choked out as he laughed. “JDoolz’ Jewels!”

A voice crackled to life over their earpieces.

“ _ Eyes on! I have eyes on the target! Cow mask! _ ”

“Trevor! Where is he?” yelled Geoff. The B-team had been stationed at key positions throughout the city to track the Animals as they fled their ruined bases.

“ _ Highway! Heading north-east! _ ”

The lads yelled and hung on as the chopper swung around and Jack sped off in that direction.

“What are we looking for Trevor?” Geoff called.

“ _ He got in an armoured truck. There’s a whole convoy! He must have been expecting something!” _

“We gotta catch up to them Jack!” called Michael.

“I’m flying as fast as I can.” Jack’s reply was terse.

“There it is! I can see the convoy!” Gavin yelled. He pointed forwards and down.

Below them, a fleet of glossy black trucks roared up the highway. They all rode heavily on their axles, a sure sign of being armoured. They plowed through everything in their paths.

“Like sitting ducks!” yelled Michael and grabbed for the rocket launcher he’d strapped to an inner wall. Jeremy darted forwards and helped him load the thing.

“Bring us around a little Jack!” called the redhead. As they shot over Edgar’s vehicles, Jack obliged, showing their broadside.

“Hi bitches!” Michael bellowed and shot the rocket. It left with a soft  _ whump _ and trailed dark smoke down to the highway. The explosion was bright and glorious and the convoy swerved to avoid it.

“Fuck. Missed. Load me up Lil J!”

Jeremy scrabbled to obey. Jack tilted them forwards again and followed as the cars passed underneath them. The lads leapt back from the open doors as sharp pinging sounds suddenly reached them.

“They’re shooting at us!” wailed Gavin.

“No shit!” yelled Geoff.

“Don’t worry! This baby will hold us. All the important bits are reinforced,” said Jack.

They chased the convoy up the highway, heading for the mountains. Michael leant out the side of the chopper and fired again. The spiralling smoke trail from the rocket was whipped into a flurry as the rotor blades whined after the cars. Cheers erupted from the crew as the projectile met its target with a scorching fireball. The van flipped end over end, spewing gouts of flame down the tar. Gavin had strapped himself in on the opposite side and was leaning out with a gaudy golden SMG, a manic grin on his face. Just as Jeremy was hanging onto Michael, Vagabond was gripping the Brit’s belt in his mouth. The lad gave a whoop of excitement as one of his errant bullets found a tyre and another black van went careening and cartwheeling up the road.

“Uh oh,” said Jack. The chopper levelled out a fraction. Up ahead, the convoy had split. A third of the cars had screamed to the left at the last second, taking an exit ramp to the west. Another third belted on down the highway. The rest of the vans had come screeching to a halt and crossed the highway divide; they were heading back to Achievement City.

“Fuck!” screamed Geoff. “Which one is the fucker in?”

They hovered for a few seconds, heads on swivels, watching the three lots of vans get further away.

“Geoff! Which ones do we go after?”

Geoff was gripping the ends of his moustache, his eyes wild.

“The ones heading back has the least cars!” Michael shouted, pointing at the retreating group.

“Those ones are heading up into the mountains! It could be him! They could have a bunker up there! But then again, it’d be easy to pick them off on the winding roads,” Jeremy said, pointing to the squad that had taken the off ramp.

“The one going on ahead has the most! That must mean he’s not in that one - they’re trying to trick us into thinking that he’d be with the more protected one!” Gavin hollered.

Geoff’s brow was furiously furrowed.

“Geoff, give me a heading,” Jack said, his voice low and urgent.

“I’m thinking you fuckers!” After a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed the radio.

“B-team! A third of the convoy is headed back to the city! Get your asses on them and wipe them out! Matt and Mica! I need you pair to contact Funhaus - tell them I’ll owe them a favour if they would be kind enough to roast the convoy heading west into the mountains,” he yelled.

There were loud squawks of confirmation over the line and Jack nodded and gunned the chopper. The crew was thrown about the cabin again as they roared after the group headed up the highway.

“It’s gotta be a double-bluff - Gav’s right - in this situation I would’ve done the same thing. Make one group look bigger and more armoured, let that be the obvious decoy - and the perfect place to hide.”

They reached an open stretch of highway leading out into the desert. The chopper was struggling to keep up with the convoy. Dust billowed up behind the black vans as they sped down the unkempt road. A rusted warehouse surrounded by ancient oil drilling equipment lay up ahead. This first of the vans pulled up and men jumped out, pulling out weapons and diving behind cover.

Jack swore and jerked the helicopter around as they came under a sudden hail of fire.

“We have to get down there!” Geoff seethed, thumping his fist against the dash. “He’s down there, I know it! They’re putting up a final line of defence so he can slip out the back and get away!”

“I can’t get any closer than this! We can withstand some gunfire but not-  _ oh fuuuuu _ -”

There were screams from the lads, and Geoff let out an incredibly girly shriek as Jack simply let the cargobob drop out of the air. The rockets whistled as they flew overhead. The rotors whined again as Jack hit the gas, sending them away from the danger. Jeremy recovered first, standing on wobbling legs.

“Well, if we land nearby, we’ll never get close enough on foot. Edgar will have vanished long before that happens!”

“What do we doooo?” wailed Gavin. Vagabond’s jaws were still firmly attached to the lad’s belt. His eyes were narrowed in concentration.

“Jack! Take us straight up! I have a plan!” Michael said with a grin. The wild spark in his eye was back. Jack obeyed without hesitation, driving the chopper directly upwards as fast as it would go. Like an elevator but multiplied, they all felt themselves dragged downwards by gravity. Michael unclipped himself and struggled towards the back of the aircraft.

“Give me a hand with this, Lil J!”

Jeremy stumbled after him. Together they dragged back the cover on something large and round sitting strapped down on a wheeled pallette. The drab olive green was overlaid with the brighter green of the crew’s stencilled emblem. Jeremy’s eyes went wide.

“Is that… is that what I think it is?”

“I couldn’t get my hands on an  _ atom _ bomb, but this is a pretty close second…” Michael said with a dark chuckle. The pair dragged it to one of the open bay doors.

“What in the bloody smegging hell is that?” Gavin yelled.

“It’s a bomb, what do you think, genius?” Michael drawled.

Jack had strategically positioned the chopper directly between the old mining facility and the sun. Anyone who wanted to take a potshot at them with rockets would have to stare directly into its rays now.

“No, I mean  _ that! _ ” Gavin squawked pointing at the other artwork Michael had added on the front of the bomb. In drippy red spraypaint, there were two eyes, a rough approximation of a messy quiff, and a mouth with a small speech bubble saying “Oi!”. The large nose of the shell appeared to be the nose of the caricature. 

“I call it the  _ Mingey Little Brit _ ,” Michael said and patted the side of the bomb.

“I - what - My nose isn’t - it’s not that big!” spluttered Gavin as Jeremy and the redhead roared with laughter.

“Whatever you’re going to do, do it quick!” Geoff yelled. Michael threw up a mock salute and scrabbled for a panel on the side of the bomb. Tongue between his teeth, the Jerseyan primed the shell and then gave it a rough shove. Jeremy joined him, muscles bulging. The shell teetered for a moment on the ledge of the cargo bay, but then tipped and fell, taking the wheeled pallette with it. The three lads crowded together and leant out, watching the bomb drop. Time seemed to slow as it fell to earth, getting further and further away. There was a flare and a flower of fire and the cargobob was rocked again by the huge shockwave. They hung on and waited for the fire and smoke to clear.

“Fuck! We got some of the building, but it was an indirect hit,” Micahel reported.

“Well, let’s go in and clean it up!” said Geoff.

The chopper dove yet again. The blades whined as they fell through the superheated air. They were surprised when bullets began to pepper them yet again. Jack rode it out this time as they descended on the old facility. There was a crunch and a rattle and a sudden beeping.

“I thought you said this chopper was -” said Geoff.

“Armoured, not indestructible! They must have hit one of the rotors!” Jack snapped. He piloted them towards the ground.

“Hold on everyone!” the red-bearded man yelled. They crashed hard. They heard the landing gear groan and give way, jolting them again. They slid through the desert, ploughing through cacti by the dozens before finally coming to rest near the edge of the bomb crater. The rotors whined down. The silence was rather eerie.

“Fakes sound off,” Geoff groaned, pushing himself away from the dash.

“Not my best landing,” Jack muttered, brushing glass off his bright hawaiian shirt.

“Not your worst,” Jeremy said, sitting up.

“Fuck!” Michael stood up, stretching a stiff neck. His hand went to his copper curls and came away smeared with blood. “Fuckin hit my head…” Jack unstrapped himself and came to the aid of the lad. Michael waved him away and went to help Gavin who was sprawled, tangled and disoriented in the cargo webbing. 

“Gav, you okay boi?”

“I’m alright, Michael,” Gavin replied, but let his friend help him up. Vagabond shook himself and yipped at Jeremy. The lad scurried over and unhooked the dog from his harness.

“Well, apart from crash landing, everything seems to be okay,” Geoff said, eyeing the rest of their cargo quickly. They all dropped to the floor instinctively as bullets peppered the hull of the downed cargobob. Geoff grinned at his crew from the ground.

“So I say we suit up and go mop up whatever’s left of these animals.” His grin was met with five other smiles.

 

The devastation from Michael’s bombshell was nothing short of breathtaking. All of the armoured vans were overturned, smoking wrecks. The vegetation in a mile’s radius was flattened and burnt. A brushfire had caught and was blazing ferociously at the edge of the road. The mining facility had half collapsed, its old timbers now smoking embers. The ground was blackened and smoking and littered with shrivelled, charred mounds that the crew realised were dead Animals. The six Fakes dashed from cover to cover, meticulously taking out whoever dared to poke their heads out from the safety of the groaning wreck of the building. Geoff, Michael and Jack favoured assault rifles. Gavin had swapped his gilt gun for an equally gaudy sniper rifle - the boy had an obsession nearing Jeremy’s orange and purple colour scheme for gold-plating all of his weaponry. Jeremy also wielded a sniper. The pair threw themselves to their bellies in turn, covering the others as they dashed forwards. Vagabond moved when Gavin did, sticking like a bur to his heels.

The Fakes were panting and sweating from the heat and exertion when they finally reached the crippled outer wall of the warehouse. Jack dropped his empty clips with a clatter and reloaded. Jeremy and Gavin swung their snipers off their shoulders and left them in the dirt - they’d be no use in here. Jeremy grabbed the bullpup he’d brought with him, while Gavin pulled a shotgun from his back. Geoff nodded silently to Michael who pulled a frag from his belt, ripped out the pin and hurled it inside. They sprinted in after it went off and fired wildly as their eyes adjusted to the gloom and lingering smoke and dust. The Animals returned fire and they dived for cover again.

“There! Cow mask!” Michael yelled, after popping up and letting off a couple of shots.

“Where?” growled Geoff, jumping up and firing too.

“Over there!” yelled Jack, shooting at a precariously leaning staircase to the far right.

“No! I saw him on the left!” Michael said.

“But I saw a cow mask on that catwalk!” snapped Jack.

There was a sudden snarl. Gavin screamed and a shotgun blast from behind made their ears ring. They all turned to see a masked Animal stumble and collapse with Vagabond’s sabre-like teeth sunk deep in his leg. The man’s chest was sunken and bloody. He’d tried to sneak up behind them. They all stared in horror as Vagabond let go of the leg and began savaging the man’s neck. He was wearing a black and white rubber cow mask. Jeremy scooted over and ripped it off. The man underneath wasn’t a man at all - a dark haired woman stared blankly up at them, her orifices leaking crimson. Vagabond leapt back. He stared at the corpse with his eyes wide and head tilted to the side.

“What the fuck!” yelled Michael. “Edgar’s a chick?”

“No! That’s not him! Fuck! This is some other level! Edgar’s got them all wearing  _ his _ stupid mask!” Geoff groaned.

“We won’t know which one is him,” Jack said in a low tone.

Geoff ground his teeth. “Never mind,” he said. He reloaded his rifle noisily. “We’ll just have to kill all of them.”

Michael laughed. Jeremy and Gavin gave each other dusty grins.

“Sounds like fun to me,” said the Brit.

And so they did.

 

The Fake Achievement Hunters swarmed through the decimated warehouse like a spec ops team. They eliminated the disarrayed Animals with extreme prejudice. The enemy crew seemed to be just throwing themselves at the Fakes now.

“Something’s not right,” Gavin panted as he hunkered down beside Geoff. The older man’s tattooed hands were white knuckled on his gun. They shook slightly. He was getting tired - they all were. It was hard to keep up with this level of adrenaline and concentration.

“What?” Grey-blue eyes flickered over their surroundings, searching for any movement.

“The Animals. They’re Edgar’s men. They’re trained better than this. Why are they acting like cannon fodder now?” Gavin said. He leant out and took a potshot at masked man who had taken a chance to sprint  to closer cover. The man shrieked and went down as his thigh meat turned into mince.

Geoff frowned at Gavin’s words.

“You’re right. They’d never be this stupid. This is a distraction. They’re covering for Edgar. There must be some sort of delay in his escape.” Geoff’s eyes were bright as he gripped Gavin’s skinny shoulder.

“You’re the smallest and quickest. We need you to try and find him. We’ll keep the rest of the Animals busy. I’ll send the other lads after you as soon as I can.”

Gavin nodded, his face grim under his golden sunglasses. Geoff eyed Vagabond who was pressed against Gavin’s side.

“You,” he snapped. The big black dog’s ears swivelled to Geoff. “Keep this skinny git safe. Don’t get distracted this time. If Gav ends up with holes in him like Michael did, I’m going to mount your head on my wall and boast that I killed you hunting big game in Alaska.”

Vagabond raised an eyebrow, but turned and kept a pace behind Gavin as the lad slunk away.

 

The gunfire echoed weirdly in the half collapsed building. The place was a mess of pipes and machinery that Gavin couldn’t name. He used his smaller stature and nimbleness to crawl through impossible gaps and wriggle under obstacles. He’d discarded his shotgun - he was out of shells anyway - opting instead for a pistol with a suppressor screwed to the barrel. Vagabond matched Gavin for fluid stealthiness. His blue eyes were moving constantly as he watched all around them. Gavin wasn’t sure where he was supposed to be looking, but as the Animals seemed to want to keep the Fakes on that side of the warehouse, he assumed that Edgar would be at the other end. These assumptions turned out to be correct. Scrabbling up onto a catwalk, Gavin saw seven or so Animals struggling to shift rubble away from a large corrugated-iron warehouse door. The little prop plane that sat behind the rubble seemed mostly unharmed due to the sheet that still half-covered it. 

“I’ve found them. He’s getting a plane ready,” Gavin whispered into his microphone.

“ _ Great job! _ ” Geoff yelled. Gavin winced. “ _ Take the sucker out then! _ ”

Gavin raised his gun and bit his lip.

“Can’t get them from here. I gotta get closer,” he said in a quiet voice. 

Gavin lowered his pistol and clambered slowly down from the scaffolding and picked his way quietly through the machinery towards the men. He jumped as Vagabond brushed past his side. The dog was growling so low and deep he was nearly vibrating. Gavin paused for a moment and rested a hand in the creature’s ruff. Vagabond glanced at Gavin out of the corner of his eye. His lips were drawn back over his teeth.

“Hold it together Ry,” Gavin whispered.

There was a crash up ahead and hurried voices and footsteps. Gavin cursed and darted forwards. He vaulted over a pipe, slid under a pump of some description and crouched behind a huge fallen girder. The masked men had finally cleared away the rubble blocking the door and were now dragging the prop-plane out into the sunlight. Gavin lined up on the nearest one and let out a breath. Blood painted the wing of the plane and the nearest man crumpled. 

“Got one,” Gavin reported in a low voice. Geoff grunted in approval over the comms.

The Animals were quick to react, but so was Gavin. Another quiet shot and another gang member went down.

“And another.”

There were shouts and curses and the rest of the men threw themselves behind the plane.

“What are you waiting here for? Get them!” The voice rang out. Vagabond growled. Gavin grimaced. 

“Geoff! It’s him! I’ve found Edgar! You guys better get over here bloody pronto!” he hissed.

“ _ Copy that Gav - just - holy fuck - just hang on-” _ Geoff was cut off.

Three men leapt over the other wing of the plane, sprinting towards Gavin. They had shotguns and they pumped them furiously. Dog and Brit huddled behind cover as slugs ricocheted off the metal around them. Gavin gritted his teeth as he heard the plane start up. He peeked out quickly, then ducked his head back in. He reached around with his pistol and fired blindly. One of his bullets must have been true because there was a horrible yell and a muffled thud. The rest pinged harmlessly off the warehouse walls. Thundering feet rounded the corner of the machinery, weapons trained on the spot they’d seen the little golden gun poking out, but the men stopped. There was noone there. Gavin dropped suddenly from above with a garbled yell. He landed on one of the Animals’ shoulders and jammed his pistol into their neck. The man’s yell was cut off with a silenced shot and he let out a sickening gurgle. Gavin used the momentum from the man’s fall to launch himself at another. He was inside the man’s reach before he could react. The Animal jerked and blood bubbled from beneath his mask as Gavin stabbed him in the throat. A hacker he might be, but years of this life had taught him how to be ruthless at other things too. Unfortunately though, he was still Gavin, and as he turned and shot the man that approached him from behind, the handle of his knife caught on a neck tendon, jerking him back. His legs were confused at the sudden direction change and so slipped in the quickly spreading pool There was a heavy, wet slap as he landed in the puddle. Gavin scrabbled to his feet and retched.

“Blood in my  _ hair _ ,” he moaned.

One of the other Animals had encountered an extremely agitated bear of a dog. The two were circling each other as the man tried to reload his shotgun. The gang-member made the mistake of taking his eyes off Vagabond for the second it took to cock his weapon. The dog was on him in an instant, fangs tearing out muscle and sinew from his neck. The man actually drowned from blood pooling in his lungs rather than a snapped neck. Vagabond’s attention was diverted by the revving of the prop plane’s engine. He turned to see a streak of gold and skinny jeans. Vagabond dashed after Gavin.

“Edgar’s getting away!” Gavin yelled into his mic.

The pair chased the plane out into the desert. It gained speed, but the two were fast. Gavin pumped shot after shot into the plane as they ran and finally one caught it in the tyre. The rubber exploded and the plane lurched to the side, the naked rim dragging in the dust. Vagabond flew towards the cockpit as the door popped open. A man in a cow mask leant out. Edgar. It had to be him. Gavin kept firing. Out of the corner of his eye, Gavin could see the muscles bunching and releasing fluidly under Vagabond’s fur as he overtook him. The dog was laser focused. Vagabond looked like he was grinning as he prepared to leap at Edgar. There was a flash of silver in the man’s hand and the crack of a gunshot. Time seemed to slow as Vagabond’s gaze shifted from Edgar and the plane. He turned and watched as Gavin faltered. The lad’s blonde eyebrows were raised in surprise. A hand went slowly to his chest. He crumpled like a rag doll.


	9. Burn it Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> The hunt continues for the Fake Achievement Hunters.

Ash was floating from the sky now, landing on bodies in drifts like a parody of snow. The hulking form of Vagabond crouched over one of the figures, the others in a bloody ring around him. His teeth were bared and red, his eyes narrowed. The fur standing on end made him appear twice as big. He turned and snarled at the crew as they approached. All four leapt back in alarm.

“Is - is that Gav?” Jeremy asked, pointing at the prone figure lying motionless between Vagabond’s paws. Geoff steeled himself and gripped his gun tighter.

“Move, you big bastard!” he yelled. Vagabond fixed his piercing blue eyes on Geoff and snarled louder. His huge barrel chest was heaving and there were dark, dripping patches in his fur. The dog whirled and snapped as Michael tried to approach. The redhead raised his arms and backed away again. Jack met Vagabond’s wild eyes and took a few slow steps forward.

“Vagabond, hey, buddy…” Jack glanced around at the circle of dead Animals. Their throats had all been ripped out. “You did a good job. You protected Gav from the bad guys… but we really need you to let us take a look at him, okay?”

The growls that rolled from Vagabond’s chest only increased with volume the closer Jack got. The red-bearded man persisted.

“Vagabond, buddy. Come on, you know me. You know us - I’m Jack, remember? We’re friends. I know Gav. You gotta let us look at him Vagabond…” Jack’s tone was soothing but still the dog crouched over Gavin’s limp body.

“Vagabond!” Jack snapped. The big black dog opened his jaws, threatening to snap if Jack drew any closer. Jack frowned.

“ _ Ryan _ ,” he said quietly.

Vagabond blinked. His fangs vanished and his stance relaxed. His ears swung forward and he sniffed at Jack. He turned and immediately began to nuzzle at Gavin. Jack let out a breath and scrambled forwards to kneel beside Gavin, gently pushing Vagabond to the side. The rest of the crew crowded around.

“Gavin, you little shit! You’d better not be dead! I’ll kill you myself if you’ve gone and let Edgar shoot you!” said Geoff.

Jack cradled Gavin’s head in his arms as Geoff ran shaking tattooed hands over the lad’s body. They hands came away covered in blood.

“Fuck,” whispered Michael. Jeremy had gone pale.

Geoff ripped open the purple silk shirt. Nestled right on the edge of the kevlar vest was a flattened bullet. A fraction higher and the bullet would have torn through Gavin’s trachea. The skin beneath the vest around Gavin’s collarbone was an ugly mottled blue-red.

“The bone might be broken. He could have just gone into shock…” Jeremy said weakly.

Jack whipped off his glasses and held them up to Gavin’s mouth. The silence was tense, but the crew drew a collective sigh of relief when the glass fogged faintly. Vagabond shoved his head into the tight circle and snuffled at the Brit’s face. Gavin moaned and stirred.

“Lickin… me…” he muttered.

Jack laughed and drew Gavin into a hug. The rest of the crew chuckled. The Brit squawked and tried to pull away.

“Bloody gerroff - hurts!”

“Sorry,” said Jack, holding Gavin at arm’s length as the lad winced and brought a hand up to cup his injured shoulder. Gavin twisted around.

“Where the toss did Edgar get to? Last time I saw he was in a plane-”

“Oh shit! The plane!” yelled Jeremy. The Fakes frantically began searching the skies for Edgar’s getaway vehicle.

“I can’t see it!” said Michael, squinting out at he white-blue horizon.

“Me either!” said Jack.

Geoff just let out an indescribable noise of frustration. His clenched fists thumped against his legs. “Fuck! Fuckin’ fuckballs! I can’t believe he’s gotten away-”

“Wait. What’s that?”

They all looked to where Gavin pointed. About a mile away was a small angular shape. A little red and white prop plane lay nose down in the desert dirt. Geoff raised his fists in triumph instead and cackled with glee.

“You right to stand Gav?” Jack asked.

Gavin unfolded himself from the ground and winced again, but nodded.

“Come on boys,” crowed Geoff, “This hunt is still on!”

 

The crew sprinted towards the downed plane. Beyond it, there was a solitary figure booking it towards the only other building for miles around. Ash still floated down around them. The brushfire at the edge of the road was spreading fast now, licking and devouring the dry desert grass.

“He can’t escape us now!” Geoff yelled as Edgar stumbled through the dust, heading for the door of the rusted old building. The rest of the Fakes let out a war cry. Gavin hurried as fast as his cracked collarbone would let him. Jack and Vagabond kept pace with him. Vagabond was limping as he ran. Protecting Gavin had taken a toll, but he was still thirsting for blood. They were all so eager for the kill. Their quarry was within their grasp. After years of squabbling over turf and battling for supremacy, finally they would control this city alone. The cow-masked menace was finished. Gavin felt a grin grown on his face and he hollered and whooped too. Edgar threw open the door to the tin building and vanished inside. Geoff was the second through, followed by Jeremy, Michael and Jack. Vagabond let out a sharp whine as Gavin sprinted across the threshold. 

There was an ugly crunching noise as Geoff slammed into the opposite wall. The crew slowed and blinked, eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness. Geoff cursed and reached for the handle of the door set in the wall. It wouldn’t open. They could see Edgar on the other side of the dark, thick glass. He was panting as he backed away. A key dangled from his fingers. The Fakes turned to the door behind them, just to see it slam shut. 

“What the fuck!” yelled Michael and he lunged for it. It too was locked fast.

“What… What’s going on?” asked Jack, looking around wildly.

Geoff felt all of his extremities go cold. 

“He’s led us into a trap…” he murmured.

“What?” asked Jeremy. The smile slid off his face.

“It’s a trap. We were so busy chasing him down, we didn’t stop to think he might be leading us into a trap!” yelled Geoff.

“How? Didn’t we just destroy all of his safehouses?” yelled Michael.

“I don’t fucking know! Maybe this is new! Maybe he didn’t let Estelle know every fucking secret he had!”

“Okay everyone, the important thing is that we don’t panic...” said Jack.

Gavin aimed his gun at the glass wall.

“Everyone duck!” he yelled. The crew hit the deck like they’d rehearsed it; living with Gavin tended to teach one very quickly to do as he said without hesitating. The bullet ricocheted off the dark glass and pinged off the other metal walls. It clattered to the floor. The glass was undamaged.

“Holy fucking dicks!” bellowed Geoff. “I would consider that panicking! Don’t do that again! You’re gonna kill us all!”

“Sorry,” said Gavin, “I was just trying to help.”

“I know, I know… fuck…” Geoff glared out the darkened glass at Edgar. The prick was grinning. It took a second for Geoff to realise that he’d removed his mask. Underneath he was thick-necked with a high forehead and a hooked nose that looked like it had been broken at least twice. All in all, it was a rather ordinary face. Not at all what one would imagine from a long-hated enemy. Geoff had always wondered what he’d looked like under it… He swallowed. This was not good news. This meant that Edgar was no longer trying to hide himself. He thought that the game was over. Edgar began to laugh. He let out huge gales of knee-slapping laughter.

“What do we do?” asked Jack in a small voice.

Geoff opened his mouth. He wanted to say something reassuring, but the sudden cold feeling that had crept into his limbs was stealing into his stomach and his lungs. He shook his head minutely and continued to stare at Edgar.

“Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?” Jeremy asked and took off his cowboy hat.

“Let us out, Edgar!” Geoff yelled.

This just made Edgar grin even wider.

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because then I might consider not ripping your head from your shoulders with my bare fucking hands and shoving it so far up your arse you’ll be able to taste what you had for breakfast last week!”

Edgar tutted. “What happened to the joking, eloquent Geoff I know?”

Geoff gritted his teeth. His hands were shaking again.

“Let. Us. Out.” Geoff’s voice was low and cold.

Edgar just grinned even wider.

“I’m serious. I’m like sweating dude,” Jeremy said. He shrugged off his purple jacket.

Edgar spoke again. “You know I can’t let you out of there. This plan has been in the works too long. It was a gamble, but this was the best way I could think of getting all of you Fakes at once. I knew you’d only come after me if I looked completely desperate. It was a difficult decision, I admit, letting you go ahead and destroy all of those safe houses. It’s a heavy loss for me, but, I happen to know quite a few places that will soon become, shall we say, available very shortly. You’re a smart one Ramsey. You’ve stayed in power by being very safe. Some might call it cowardice, but then they’re not the ones still alive and kicking.”

He didn’t think it was possible, but Geoff’s stomach sank even lower.

“ _ This was  _ all _ a trap?”  _ whispered Jack.

“So you see, I really just  _ can’t _ let you out. Awfully sorry about that.” Edgar’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“You motherfucking cock-sucking cunt!” screamed Geoff. He pounded his fists on the glass, but leapt back.

“Ow! What the fuck…?” His hands were red. “The glass is hot as dicks dude!”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” said Jeremy.

“Ah, yes, that,” said Edgar. He bent down to pick up the mask he’d dropped. He brushed the dust off it. “Funny coincidences. I was doing some research one day - medieval torture methods. You know how it is on Wikipedia - you just keep clicking links and suddenly you’re three hours in and you’ve just learnt so much random crap. Well, this was an interesting article…”

Geoff could feel the heat now too. He tugged at his bowtie. Michael shrugged out of his leather jacket.

“A man by the name of Perillos of Athens created a device to punish prisoners. It was a hollow, brass contraption. The unfortunate victim was placed inside and a fire was lit underneath.”

All five of the Fakes glanced to the floor.

“And so, like a rather gruesome oven, the prisoner was roasted alive. The best part? They shaped the device into a large bull. This,” Edgar gestured at the room they were locked in, “is my modern take on the Brazen Bull. Less bovine-shaped, more viewing windows.”

“You sick fucker!”

“Let us out now!”

“We gotta get out!”

“Fuckin’ let us go!”

The Fakes’ words tumbled over each other as they all began hammering on the glass. Edgar roared with laughter again. The heat was really ratcheting up now. Michael yelled and tried the back door again, wrenching on it with all his might. Jeremy joined him and together they attempted to pull it open. They fell to the ground.

“That won’t work. Like a vault door that one. I made sure of it,” Edgar chortled.

Geoff glanced around at his crew. Gavin was pale and clutching his shoulder. Jack’s face was creased and he gripped Gavin’s other shoulder. He looked to Geoff for orders. Michael was staring wildly around at their prison, his face red. Jeremy fiddled with his jacket, looking to Geoff too. The tattooed crime boss turned back to Edgar.

“What’s it going to take for us to get out of here?”

“Oh Geoffrey,” Edgar said, shaking his head. His voice was slightly muffled by the glass. There was another sound too. Steadily growing, was a roaring, crackling noise. The fire was building. “How quickly the threats turn to trying to leverage a deal.”

“I have money. The crew has stashes all over the city. Jewels. Weaponry. Secrets - government secrets!”

Edgar just grinned.

“Please just… You can have me, okay? You can do anything you want, just let the rest of these brats go,” Geoff said, waving a hand at the rest of the Fakes. Jack gasped. Gavin made a pained noise. Jeremy and Michael stared at Geoff. Edgar threw back his head and laughed.

“And immediately to begging! Keep going! I’m enjoying this immensely!”

Geoff lips turned into a thin, hard line. There was a sudden crash and the room shuddered. Edgar’s grin dialed down a notch. He sighed.

“But of course. In typical Fake Achievement Hunter fashion… The fire was set up to cook you nice and slow. For my personal entertainment of course. But that bomb you dropped… I believe that the brushfire has reached this building. It was used to store lumber, so I daresay it will go up much quicker than anticipated. Yet again you’ve ruined my fun, Ramsey.” Edgar gave them a disgruntled look.

“Ha!” said Geoff.

Jeremy and Michael had stopped staring at Geoff and were putting all their weight into the glass door now. Whether they were sweating from the exertion, or the growing heat, Geoff did not know. He strode over too and grabbed the handle, putting his weight into it.

“Fuck! This isn’t going to work! This thing is rock solid!” Michael gasped as he let go. Jeremy bent and rested a hand on his knee, wiping away the sweat from his lobster red brow.

“Geoff… I don’t feel good,” Gavin said. The lad looked up at him with wide green eyes. He was shaking like a leaf, even as Jack gripped his shoulders. They all winced as there was another crash outside the room. The roaring, hissing noise of the fire was louder now.

“What do we do Geoff?” Jack asked. The others were all breathing heavily as the air around them thickened. Geoff looked from one red, scared face to the next. The crime-boss’s mouth was open as he too panted. A gout of flame flared along the wall behind Edgar. He sneered at the trapped gang.

“That’s my cue. Have a nice life. Which I’d say is about, oh, another half an hour.” Edgar pulled out his mask and slipped it back on. He turned and strode away, smugly swinging the key in his hand.

“Burn in hell, you motherfucking prick!” roared Geoff. Edgar laughed waved a lazy hand over his shoulder as he reached the door at the opposite side of the building.

“There’s the jokey Geoff I know.”

The air between them was beginning to warp from the heat. Geoff fruitlessly yanked on the glass door again.

Edgar bellowed in surprise. The five looked up. A huge black shape barreled through the open door into Edgar. He tackled the man to the ground and leap on top of him.

“Vagabond!”

“Get him Vagabond!”

“Eat the bastard!”

Edgar grunted and threw the dog off, but lost his handgun off the edge of the catwalk in the scuffle. It fell to the ground below, and was swallowed by hungry yellow flames The dog shook himself and rose. Edgar scarpered back the way he’d come, pulling a huge hunting knife from his boot. Vagabond snarled and gave chase. The fire was roaring through the old building now. Geoff was ill from the heat. Sweat was dripping into his eyes faster than he could wipe it away. The air was blisteringly hot and thick. It was getting harder to breathe.

“Ryan!” Gavin’s voice was high and thin. The black dog’s head flicked around till those blue eyes found the crew.

“Get the key!” Gavin yelled and pointed at Edgar. The dog’s attention switched back to his prey. Vagabond was just a dog. There was no way he was going to know that they needed the key. Geoff bit his lip, but said nothing. They all watched as Vagabond began to circle Edgar.

The man turned on the spot. The wicked knife in his grasp glinted in the firelight.

“Get lost you dumb mongrel!” Edgar yelled. They saw his eyes dart towards the door. The flames were growing. Vagabond lunged and Edgar struck out with the knife. The lunge was a feint and Vagabond slipped to the side, raking teeth across Edgar’s hamstrings. The man roared in pain and slashed downwards. Vagabond had already leapt out of the way.

“Well trained for a mutt, Ramsey!” Edgar called as he stumbled backwards, eyes fixed on the dog. He flipped the knife around in his hand for a backhanded swipe. Murky smoke billowed around the pair. Geoff made the mistake of trying to lean up against the glass. He hissed a curse and reeled back. It was unbelievably hot. Gavin had collapsed onto the ground. Michael was struggling with the door again. Jeremy and Jack had shed more clothes. It was getting so hard to breathe.

Vagabond and Edgar continued to dance around each other, the dog never seeming to get in another good bite, and Edgar always  _ just _ missing the black fur. They both flinched out of the way as a flame-wracked timber fell onto the platform. Edgar cursed as he tried to regain his balance. He threw out his arms. Vagabond’s eyes fixed on the hand in which he still gripped the key. Muscles bunched under dark fur and he leapt. Edger’s eyes widened as the dog soared towards him. He turned and slashed wildly. Dog and man broke apart. Edgar stumbled to the side. Vagabond howled and rolled. He got gingerly to his paws. A huge gash had opened up along his ribs.

“Whoa! You nearly got me there! Wily beast, aren’t you!” Edgar waggled the knife at the dog who snarled in response. Edgar frowned.

“You… you look familiar,” he muttered. “That fur… those markings… I can’t be. Is that you James?” Edgar voice was full of surprise. The huge black dog stalked towards him, snarls warping weirdly in the hot air.

“It is! It is you! Oh how I missed you! Our little talks. The fights. The torture. To be honest, I thought you were dead. Tossed into the ocean in a bag weighed down with stones kills most creatures, but it seems you survived that particular fate…”

Vagabond growled and snapped at Edgar. The man didn’t even flinch. Edgar merely raised an eyebrow.

“I’m surprised. In a previous life, you would have killed me by now. I’m curious as to your hesitation?”

Edgar saw the wild blue eyes flicker from him, to where the five Fakes were huddled in the glass box. Jack was wavering. He’d joined Gavin on the ground. Jeremy and Michael were weakly attempting to ram the glass with their shoulders. Geoff hobbled over and put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. Gavin’s eyes were fixed on the huge black dog. The warehouse around them groaned. The structure shuddered, ravenous yellow flames licking their way up the rafters. Edgar laughed.

“Them?”

Vagabond snapped. Edgar danced back a step. The black dog froze. Edgar had thrust his hand out over the blazing inferno. The key dangled from his fingers.

“Ah, here I thought you did the lone wolf thing - pardon the pun,” said Edgar. His voice was nonchalant under the mask, as if there weren’t a ravenous fire attempting to devour the whole building around them. “Are they your  _ pack _ now?”

Vagabond’s gaze remained fixed on the keys. Edgar narrowed his eyes. Another rafter fell with a crash and a gust of searing air behind them. The man gritted his teeth. He glanced again towards the exit door. Vagabond didn’t hesitate. The moment Edgar’s eyes moved from him, he leapt at the man. Edgar screamed as two-hundred pounds of fur and fangs came cannon-balling towards him. The Fakes shouted as the two went over the edge of the catwalk. Gavin leapt to his feet as Vagabond was swallowed by the fire. Edgar continued screaming. They saw a burning figure stumble from the flames and towards the exit door. They all flinched and ducked as the surge of oxygen from the outside air make the fire flare.

“Ryan!” yelled Gavin.

The lad clenched his fists and stared at the flames, trying to ignore the way his shirt and hair were plastered to him. His collarbone was a searing dart of pain every time he moved. His feet felt too hot through his shoes. He struggled to breath in. It was like all the oxygen in the air had been boiled off. Minutes passed. 

“Come on Ryan!” Gavin banged a fist on the glass, heedless of the heat. More of the building collapsed around them. Keen green eyes scoured the blindingly hot fire and suddenly - a smouldering shadow leapt from the tongues of flame.

“ _ Ryan! _ ”

The dog staggered towards them. His fur was badly singed in places. His chest heaved as he coughed. Dangling from his mouth was a small silver key. The Fakes cheered and scrabbled towards the glass.

“You brilliant mutt!” Geoff croaked.

“Good dog!” said Michael, crouching at the glass. Vagabond’s blue eyes met Gavin’s green ones.

“Ryan, buddy. We gotta get out of here. You gotta put the key in the lock. Can you do that for us?” the Brit said. The key jingled as the big dog shook. He stretched his neck up and they heard the scraping of metal on metal.

“Fuckin’ genius dog! Who taught him to do this?” Geoff muttered with a weak grin. There was a clatter and the key fell to the ground.

“Ryan! You gotta try again, Ryan! We’re trapped in here!”

Vagabond scooped up the key again, jamming it against the lock. It clattered to the metal floor. The whole crew were yammering words of encouragement now. The wolf-dog was panting. His eyes were wide and shot. The smoke was choking him.

“Ryan, please… please, you have to help us…”

The big dog pawed weakly at the key. He collapsed. The crew was shouting now, pounding on the glass. The heat was unbearable. Gavin knelt, lowering himself so he could look Vagabond in the eye.

“ _ Come on… _ ” he whispered.

Vagabond was panting. Gavin frowned. Not panting. He was repeating that same pattern of noises.

_ “Chay, rack. Chay rack. Chay rack…” _ Vagabond squeezed his eyes shut tight and shuddered. He pawed again at the keys. The dog shook violently. Vagabond’s spine curled back and he let out an unearthly howl. Gavin fell backwards, eyes widening. Vagabond’s toes lengthened and straightened. The dark, burned fur seemed to ripple and flow backwards. The dog tossed his head and his shoulders rolled. They heard a horrible, popping, cracking noise over the sound of ravenous flames. The long, petering howl morphed into something more like a scream. The long tail shrank and elongated hind legs shortened. The huge ruff transformed into long, greasy black hair. The wolfish snout shortened into a high-cheekbone, chiseled face. Vagabond’s black nose paled and narrowed. Sabre-like canines shrank behind pink lips. Human fingers scrabbled for the key. Only the blue eyes were the same. Vagabond’s naked chest heaved as he reached up. His hands shook so much, but he eventually drove the key home and turned it. The door swung open. The man teetered for a moment and then fell into the crew’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a high school history assignment on medieval torture devices. That shiz is messed up yo.


	10. The Basics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> Vagabond has to relearn some basic skills and Gavin starts acting odd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate me finishing writing this fic - and because I love you all so much! - I am posting this chapter early. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Vagabond opened his eyes to a blank white ceiling. There was a soft beeping nearby. He flicked his ears towards the sound. There was a strange sensation as they refused to obey. He blinked in confusion. Vagabond drew in a deep breath, scenting for danger. He received another shock as his nose registered very little. Then another at the sudden pain in his chest. He reeled and coughed.

“Whoa! Calm down there! Hey! It’s alright!”

Vagabond struggled to get up. He growled at the approaching figure. He couldn’t smell who they were. He snapped at the person. Vagabond shook his head and looked down his snout. To his alarm there was none. He backpedalled.

“Jesus! Fuck! Sedate him or something before he kills himself! The skin grafts are still fresh!”

More people came at him. He snarled and bit at them, registering in the back of his mind how different he sounded. He couldn’t remember what had happened. Where was he? Why did he hurt all over? There were things all over him, restricting him, tying him down -

“ _ Ryan _ …”

Vagabond froze. That voice. He recognised it. He blinked and stared up into bright green eyes. The young Brit grinned down at him.  _ Gavin _ . He leant forwards and licked the lad’s nose. Gavin’s eyes widened and he leapt back. He scrubbed at his face which had gone rather red. Vagabond tried to follow him.

“Whoa! Ryan! No, don’t do that dude. You’re gonna pull your drip out,” he said. He moved forwards again and gently pushed Vagabond back onto the soft mattress. Vagabond relented. A few people in white checked the beeping monitors beside the bed. Gavin. Gavin… he’d last seen Gavin… The fire. Behind the glass. The key. Vagabond let out a whine, pawing at Gavin, noticing now the bandages wrapped around the man’s skinny arms. A squeaky laugh escaped the lad.

“I’m fine Ry. You’re the one who’s not doing so hot,” he said. He placed Vagabond’s hand back in his lap. Vagabond did a double take. He yelped. He had hands.  _ Human  _ hands. They jumped to his face. Bandaged though it was, he could feel a human face. His ears were small and on the sides of his head. He had hair! He felt his teeth. Okay, those had always been a little canine looking. Vagabond looked up at Gavin, eyes wide and wild. He gestured to himself. Gavin laughed again.

“Yes, I know. I can see,” he said.

Vagabond opened his mouth and rasped. He shut it again with a snap and wrinkled his brow. Gavin put a thin hand on his shoulder.

“What is it Ry?”

Vagabond gazed at Gavin again, his eyes sad. He opened his mouth again, but only garbled noises poured forth. Gavin blinked in surprise.

“You okay?”

Vagabond twisted his mouth to the side and nodded.

“They said that the smoke inhalation might have…” Gavin said.

Vagabond shook his head slowly. Gavin’s eyes widened.

“Oh. You… You’ve not been human for a while, have you? Gotta get used to talking again?”

Vagabond gave the lad an apologetic grin. Gavin returned the smile.

“No worries. You seemed to communicate fine before now anyways. You always had the most expressive eyebrows.”

Vagabond let out a bark like laugh.

The door slammed open and the rest of the crew poured in.

“There he is! Caleb called and said you were awake!” Jack strode over to the bed.

“You motherfucker. You really tried to die on us again, you know,” said Geoff. He butted in beside Jack and reached for Ryan’s shoulder. Seeing the bandages though he paused. His hand wavered for a moment, then fell back by his side. Jeremy and Michael trotted into the room too, smiles stretching across their faces when they saw the man sitting up in bed.

“You had us worried!” said Jeremy. The five crowded around the bed. Vagabond twisted around to look at all of them, but flinched when this forced him to use areas that were still healing. He noticed the bandages on the others too. He gestured. Michael glanced down at his.

“Oh? These? ‘Tis merely a scratch,” he said.

“Yeah dude. These are mild compared to yours,” Jeremy said. He thumped his chest. The crew laughed as his eyes began watering.

“Seriously though. You saved our asses out there. We were fucked if you hadn’t opened that door,” said Geoff.

“Yes. Thanks to you, we all managed to get out alive,” added Jack.

Vagabond stared around at them all, but his gaze couldn’t help but stray back to his fingers and hands. He stretched them out again, clasping them together and wiggling his opposable thumbs. The crew watched him with curiosity. Vagabond couldn’t help but notice the smug grin splitting Geoff’s face. He raised an eyebrow at the man.

“You  _ are _ actually  _ The _ Vagabond, aren’t you?” he said.

Vagabond rolled his eyes and nodded.

“Hah!” shouted Geoff, thrusting a fist into the air. “I fucking knew it! The whole time, I fucking knew it!”

Jack grabbed his shoulders to stop him from bouncing about the room.

“No you didn’t. None of us had a clue,” he said.

Jeremy and Michael were still staring bright eyed at Vagabond as he ran his hands over his human body again. Vagabond side-eyed the gawking lads and squirmed a little. He could practically see the timers in their heads ticking down till an avalanche of questions burst forth. He was lightheaded and even though he was back in human form, he felt awkward and clumsy and just really odd. To suddenly be able to sit up with his legs out straight after so long was disconcerting. It would take some time to get reacquainted with his body.

“Alright! Alright! Everyone out! Now that he’s awake I have to check his cognitive functions and change his bandages again. Scram, the lot of you!” Caleb came in, chart in one hand, a dozen rolls of bandages in the other.

“Do we have to? He just woke up!” whined Geoff.

“If you ever want me to patch you up again, I suggest you follow my orders,” said Caleb with a frown.

“Hey! Who’s the boss of who here?” Geoff’s moustache bristled.

“If you need anything, just hit the call button. There are a few nurses on twenty-four hour staff, and the crew will all be close by,” Jack said, patting Vagabond gingerly on the arm. Vagabond sighed in relief. He knew they'd want answers, but right now, he just needed to be able to come to terms with this himself. Jack grabbed Geoff by the suit sleeve and dragged him out after Jeremy and Michael. Vagabond blinked. Gavin wasn’t with them. When had he disappeared?

 

Recovering from the burns and lacerations from fighting the Animals was quick. Damage to his lungs from the smoke healed fast too. Learning how to be human again - that took a while. Not only could Vagabond not speak, he was unable to write. This left communication to a combination of head nods, shakes, grunting and exasperated charades. Jeremy had the bright idea at one point to hand Vagabond his phone. Vagabond had taken the device and looked at it blankly.

“Type out what you want to say and show us,” Jeremy said.

Vagabond brought the phone close to his face and examined it. It was the newest iPhone, sleek and thin and (for the time being) unscratched. Jeremy had just gotten it replaced after failing what they had dubbed the ‘Gavin Free’ challenge. Gavin’s philosophy was ‘If they’re gonna make phones that are only millimeters thin, then why would you go and ruin those millions of dollars in engineering on putting a case on your phone?’ This led to a lot of shattered screens.

Vagabond continued to stare at the phone. He motioned for Jeremy.

“What?” asked the blue-haired lad. Vagabond gestured carefully with the phone and then shrugged.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say dude. Just unlock it and type whatever.”

Vagabond rolled his eyes. He pointed at the phone and shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

Jeremy stared at him, an eyebrow raised. He took the phone back, unlocked it and handed it back to Vagabond.

“Jesus… it’s like you’ve never used a phone before…”

Vagabond suddenly gestured wildly and nodded. He made a croaky noise. Jeremy’s mouth dropped open with a little “Ohhh...”

He took the phone back.

“You’ve never used a phone before?”

Vagabond sighed and mimed opening something and putting it to his ear.

“Flip phones? You’ve used flip phones though?”

Vagabond nodded.

“You know it’s a phone then, but you’ve never used a smartphone?”

Vagabond cocked his head at the term. Jeremy grinned.

“Oh buddy. You are going to enjoy this then.”

 

Vagabond was wide eyed at the capabilities of the tiny device. He remembered Gavin showing him things on a small screen, but had never imagined the leaps and bounds that the technology had made. The first obstacle he had to overcome was touch screens. Getting his stiff fingers to work the small screen took a few tries. Once he had a handle on that though, Jeremy led him through the basics of what the phone could do. The lad had to laugh at Vagabond’s flabbergasted look as he showed him the various mobile games available, and the multitude of other apps he had installed.

Jeremy brought over his laptop too and Vagabond had been astounded at the speed at which he could navigate the internet. After Jeremy walked him through Windows 10, he did a comical double-take at the amount of hard drive space on the device.

“It’s only a terabyte in there at the moment. There are newer models coming out with more, I’m sure,” Jeremy said with a grin.

They went over more video games (Vagabond got excited over first-person-shooters; Jeremy remembered he’d been very interested when they’d played them on the Xbox) and then Jeremy showed Vagabond social media.

“You know Facebook?” Jeremy asked.

Vagabond gave him a blank look.

“Um… Myspace?”

Vagabond gave a vague nod and shrug.

“Okay, well it’s sort of like Myspace then. But bigger. And way better.”

This led them down a rabbit hole to Twitter, Reddit, Youtube, Tumblr, Instagram… When they reached SnapChat, Vagabond threw up his hands and made an exasperated noise. Jeremy laughed.

“Yeah, things have changed I guess.”

 

There was a crash and several pained whines. Michael froze in his tracks. Another clatter and more groaning. The red headed lad drew his gun and tore into Vagabond’s room. He was greeted with the sight of Vagabond collapsed on the ground beside his bed, his hospital gown askew, Steffie squashed beneath him.

“Oh god, please help. He’s heavier than he looks,” she said. Her voice was muffled as her face was squished against the floor. Michael roared with laughter as he holstered his gun and went to try and help Vagabond up. Before he could, Vagabond rolled off Steffie and onto his front. He got onto his hands and knees. He looked confused, but then sat back, bare feet on the floor, knees up under his armpits, just like a dog would. Michael reeled back.

“Woah! Don’t go sitting like that! I just copped an eyeful!”

Vagabond appeared confused, but then looked down. His eyebrows shot up and he scrambled to cover himself. Steffie put an arm under Vagabond’s. She snapped her fingers at Michael who was still covering his eyes.

“Hey, seeing as you're here, mind helping me get him up? We’re reached the stage in his physical therapy where we need to start getting him to put weight back on his legs. Too much lying horizontal and his muscles will begin to atrophy.”

“The fuck is atrophy?” Michael asked, stepping closer and gripping Vagabond’s other arm.

Vagabond rolled his eyes. They lifted him up and steered him towards the bed again. The pair propped him up on the edge.

“It means shrink. The muscles will get weaker if they go too long without use,” Steffie said as she fussed over Vagabond’s bandages again.

“Oh… Is that why I fuckin’ punch like a weakling after a long stint in the medical wing?”

“How did you not learn this in high school?”

“Steffie. C’mon. I’m a criminal. I dropped out of high school,” Michael said with a cocky grin.

“Figures. Okay Vagabond, did you wanna try standing up again?” Steffie said. She dragged over the room’s armchair. “Here, you can lean on this to help you get your balance.”

Vagabond nodded and gripped the back of the chair. Michael had stepped back and was watching. Steffie pointed to him and motioned at Vagabond.

“You. Go stand next to him so you can catch him if he falls. He ain’t crushing me again today,” she said. Michael shrugged and did as he was told. Vagabond struggled to his feet. The dark-haired man’s forehead was creased in concentration. Michael put out a hand in preparation. 

“How does that feel then?” asked Steffie. “Try taking a few steps with the chair. Let the muscles stretch out normally.”

Vagabond drew in a deep breath and shuffled the chair forwards. When he tried to take a step though, his legs weakened under him.

“Whoa there!” Michael grabbed Vagabond and maneuvered him into the chair.

Steffie tapped her chin with her finger. Her face was creased in concern.

“This isn’t good. I might have to go talk to Caleb. His muscles shouldn’t be this bad…” She turned and left the room. Michael watched her go and then turned back to Vagabond. The man’s shoulders were hunched.

“Hey, don’t worry. Steffie’ll sort you out in no time at all. I’ve lost count of the times she’s physio-d me back to fighting fit. She’s brilliant at it.”

Vagabond sighed and shook his head. He pointed at his legs.

“What?” Michael asked.

Vagabond rolled his eyes again and let out a small woofing noise. Comprehension dawned on the younger man’s face.

“Right. I get it. Two legs again. I can see how that would be difficult. And I’m guessing Steffie doesn’t…”

Vagabond gave him a sharp look.

“Right. It’s just the five of us that know that then.”

Michael blew out a breath and ran a hand through his curly hair.

“I mean… I could help you out with that if you wanted?”

Vagabond twiddled his thumbs in his lap and then glanced up at Michael.

“Don’t give me that look. You nearly fuckin’ killed yourself to save us. It’s the least I can do,” said the lad. Vagabond shook his head.

“No, no. Come on. Get up. We’ll get you walking like a real boy in no time.”

 

A few days later, Caleb took out Vagabond’s drip and they started him on a liquid diet. Geoff and Jeremy had stopped a couple of days after that to watch the spectacle that was Vagabond attempting to eat his first solid meal. He completely ignored the silverware that Steffie had put on his tray table, opting instead to dive headfirst into the plate of spaghetti.

“Look at him wolfing it down,” Jeremy said in an undertone, sipping from his can of Diet Coke. He gasped as Geoff hit him in the stomach, spilling his drink a little. The bedridden man looked up when he heard the pair trying but failing to smother their giggling. He gave them a questioning look, but then noticed the knife and fork. Realisation dawned on his face. He glared at them, then attempted to pick up his fork. This proved difficult. Jeremy and Geoff’s laughter trailed off. Vagabond pawed at the utensil, fingers stiff and slow to respond. Even when he did manage to pick it up, the fork trembled in his fingers. It slipped out again when he went to scoop up a meatball. He scowled and hurled the fork at the opposite wall. Geoff and Jeremy yelled and jumped out of the way. Vagabond began shovelling food into his mouth with his hands instead. He paused. His eyes were fixed on Jeremy’s hand. He pointed urgently.

“What?” Jeremy looked at Geoff who shrugged. Vagabond gestured for Jeremy to come closer. The purple-suited lad approached warily. Like a viper, Vagabond’s hand shot out and he snatched Jeremy’s drink can.

“Hey!” Jeremy’s voice rose in indignation.

Vagabond made a happy noise as he guzzled the Diet Coke. Geoff cracked up, then froze.

“It was you! You stole all my mixers! You bastard!” he yelled, shaking a finger at Vagabond.

The man drained the can and handed it back to Jeremy. He smirked at Geoff. The tattooed man huffed and crossed his arms.

 

Vagabond still occasionally stumbled, but soon Michael had him up and about. He was surprised to find that they weren’t at the Fake’s tower. When he was able to make it to a window, he stared out in awe of the surrounding countryside. They were up high. Vagabond’s hospital room jutted out over an infinity pool. A rocky hilltop with a foaming river rolled away to meet a misty evergreen forest. The forest stretched away, way down into a valley, and met the foot of the next mountain. He could see snowcaps on the horizon. Michael clapped him on the back, making him jump and growl.

“Oh, shit. Sorry,” said the redhead.

Vagabond shook his head and looked back out the window. His mouth hung open slightly. Michael grinned.

“Nice, huh?”

Vagabond nodded and gestured with a questioning look.

“What?” asked Michael.

Vagabond gestured again, pointing at the expansive mountainside.

“Oh! Right, yeah. This is one of the crew’s safe houses. We’re like halfway across the country. Edgar kinda got away so Geoff packed us all off up here. He tells us he fuckin’ hates us, but then he goes and gets all protective and shit. So for the time being, we’re stuck in paradise. Nice, huh?”

Vagabond just nodded.

“Here, I’ll show you around,” said Michael and he offered his arm.

He led Vagabond out and down a set of stairs. Very slowly down a set of stairs. Once they were safely at the bottom though, Vagabond’s head was on a swivel. The mansion was undeniably beautiful. There were soaring wooden rafters, rustic touches and exposed stone. Everywhere possible were windows looking out at the mountains. The light was low across the land and Vagabond wasn’t sure whether it was morning or afternoon.

“Believe it or not, Jack designed and built this place,” Michael said.

He was puffing slightly as Vagabond leant on him. The older man put a hand on the nearby wall and took his arm off Michael's shoulders. Michael stretched and rubbed his neck. From here, the lounge, dining room and kitchen spread out. A contemporary chandelier dripped from the ceiling, a huge hewn stone fireplace was set in one wall and an enormous pale, L-shaped couch lounged before it. Vagabond pushed off from the wall and took a few tentative steps towards the couch.

“Look at him go!”

Geoff was seated at a bar down the hall further, drink in hand, grinning at the pair. Michael laughed as Vagabond flipped him off. The dark-haired man collapsed on the couch.

“D’y want a drink or anything?” Michael asked.

Vagabond paused, but then shook his head. Michael shrugged.

“Suit yourself. I’m getting one,” he said.

The red haired lad wandered away. Vagabond continued to examine his luxurious surroundings. He was about to get up to examine the large, teak cabinet below what appeared to be five enormous flat screen televisions laid out together when Gavin strode into room, nose buried in his phone.

“Hhhaaa - ha - lo.”

Gavin jumped and looked at Vagabond. The man had a hand raised in an uncertain wave.

“Oh, hi. You can talk now?” Gavin asked. He sidled over to the fireplace and leant against it. Vagabond sighed and shook his head. He gave an apologetic shrug.

“Ah, right. Still working on that,” Gavin said. He flipped his phone over in his hands.

“Getting plenty of rest? Healing well?” Gavin asked.

Vagabond nodded again. Gavin looked out the window.

“Well, I’ve got to go, ah, Geoff’s got a thing for me to do,” said the Brit. He turned and hurried away, looking closely at his phone again. Vagabond watched him go with a crease on his forehead.

 

Vagabond continued to heal quickly. He barely needed help up and down the stairs anymore. Jack did catch him once climbing the staircase on all fours, but didn’t say anything.

Speech pathology sessions had been implemented to great effect. Jeremy had gotten bored of the regular, limited flash cards and had resorted to googling random strings of images on his phone for Vagabond to practice on.

“Vill-village?”

The younger man, whose blue hair had faded a little by now, was sat with Vagabond at the kitchen island. Vagabond was practicing using a knife and fork again as well as doing Jeremy’s amended flash cards.

“Eh. I googled ‘hamlet’, but I’ll give it to you,” Jeremy said.

Vagabond grinned. The fork clattered from his grasp and he frowned. Jeremy giggled.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of this again,” he said. Vagabond just continued to stare at the fork as if it had betrayed him. This just made Jeremy laugh more. The Vagabond turned the cold stare onto Jeremy. The lad’s laughter petered out and he turned a shade paler.

“Oh… uh, sorry… I didn’t mean…”

Vagabond smirked. Jeremy snorted.

“You fucker. That’s fucking creepy dude. I… yeah, in the middle of all this, I kind of forgot you were actually  _ The _ Vagabond, you know. Geoff and Jack - mostly Jack - told us horror stories about you. You were - uh -  _ are _ quite the mercenary,” Jeremy said.

“Speaking of which…” Geoff strode into the kitchen. He headed straight for the mixers, glass and a bottle of whiskey already in hand. Jack followed not two steps behind. Geoff opened the fridge door, pulled out a bottle of Coke and placed it on the counter. He pointed at The Vagabond and narrowed his eyes.

“When we can, we’re getting you out to the shooting range and seeing if you still have a handle on those skills. In our line of business, it’s, y’know, kind of essential,” he said.

The Vagabond nodded. He picked up his fork again. Geoff turned around and let out a wail of disbelief. His glass had been put away, the Coke returned to the fridge and the bottle of whiskey was in Jack’s hand. The red-bearded man patted his shoulder.

“Geoff, it’s seven in the morning. I know that you’re practically sixty percent ethanol at this point, but even this is a new low for you.”

Jack took the bottle away. Geoff made the devastated noise again and scurried after him.

“Thought - Geoff - was - protect- protective one?”

Jeremy laughed. “Yes, well. He’d kill anyone who came after us. Has no sense of self preservation though, unless you count him trying to pickle himself while still alive.”

Vagabond chuckled.

“So Jack has to be his babysitter most of the time.”

“Cu-cu…”

“Cute?”

Vagabond shook his head. “That - too. No - it’s curious. Their - dy-dynamic. Have not - seen - many gangs - w- with…” The man frowned. “So casual?”

Jeremy nodded. “Ah, I get ya. Yeah. The Fakes aren’t like anything I’ve ever encountered either. I worked freelance for quite a while before joining them. I worked with the B-Team for a long time before being asked to join the ‘high five’. It’s so, so different. They’re like a family here. Any other mob boss would be constantly on edge and wary of usurpers and traitors at every corner. I dunno. Geoff just inspires loyalty like no one else. I’ve never known a pair to have stayed together as long as Geoff and Jack have either. Those two are like peanut-butter and jelly, but with more alcohol. They work brilliantly together, and they’re basically inseparable.” 

Vagabond looked at his food.

“By - by the way. Have you se-seen Ga- Gav- Gavin lately?”

“Yeah. He’s been around the mansion. Why do you ask?”

The Vagabond shrugged and continued his attempt to eat. “Have - not se-seen him.”

“What? Gav hasn’t been to visit you?”

The Vagabond shook his head. Jeremy frowned.

“That’s… not really like him. You couldn’t keep him away when you…” Jeremy’s voice faded away. He looked around anxiously for some other topic, before settling on staring at the marble table-top as if it held the answers to life. The Vagabond watched out of the corner of his eye. Michael strode in. He opened up the giant walk in pantry and rifled around.

“Hi Michael!” said Jeremy in a falsely bright voice, looking up and turning to face the redhead.

“Hey. Where do we keep the chocolate in here?” he asked.

“On the right hand shelf. Near the middle,” Jeremy said. He tapped away at his phone and pulled up a new picture.

“Chocolate,” said Vagabond. He carefully navigated a forkful of roast potatoes to his mouth as Jeremy nodded.

“Which shelf, Jeremy?” called Michael.

“Third shelf. Eye height,” Jeremy replied.

“For you maybe…” Michael muttered. They heard more clattering. “There ain’t no fuckin chocolate in here! Where the fuck did it all go?” The redhead stormed out of the kitchen.

“Huh. That’s weird. I swear we just got restocked the other day,” Jeremy said. He went back to his phone. When he looked up at Vagabond, the man was staring resolutely at his food, a curl at the corner of his mouth. Jeremy narrowed his eyes.

“First all the Diet Coke and now the chocolate?”

“Hey. Been - been living - on scraps - for  _ years _ . Missed chocolate…” Vagabond said with a wry smile. There was a yell from upstairs. Jeremy stared upwards in alarm.

“I may - have left all the - wap - the wrappers near your room…” The Vagabond said and turned back to his food.

“Wait - what?  _ My _ room?”

The Vagabond smiled that evil smile again as Michael thundered back down the stairs, his freckled face crimson with fury. Jeremy yelped and fled from the kitchen.

 

The next day Jeremy went looking for Vagabond to continue their sessions but was unable to find him anywhere in the mansion.

“Did Vagabond go out?” Jeremy asked Geoff who was watching television downstairs.

“I don’t think so. He was only due to get his bandages off today. If he went out, Caleb would flay him alive.”

“Well, I can’t find the asshole. Have you seen him?”

“Nope,” replied Geoff. He leant around Jeremy to continue watching what looked like  _ The View _ . Jeremy threw his hands up and went back upstairs. Neither Jack nor Michael had seen the man. Jeremy was about to go check the security room and see if he could find Vagabond on any of the mansion’s cameras when he heard a strange squawking sound. There was a slam. Gavin speed-walked around the corner and nearly ran into Jeremy.

“Hey Gav. Where’s the fire?” Jeremy wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but he was sure that Gavin’s face was flushed pink.

“No fire. Just… gotta get back to work.”

“Work? What work have you been doing all the way out here?”

“Geoff’s got things for me.” Gavin’s long fingers fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

“Uh huh. By the way, have you seen Vagabond today?” Jeremy asked.

“Yep. In the master bathroom,” Gavin said. He looked frightened suddenly and scurried away. Jeremy watched him go, his eyebrow raised. He shook his head and headed for the main bathroom. All of the other rooms had ensuites with showers, but the master bathroom had the full set of amenities expected from a huge mansion such as this one. Jeremy knocked on the door. There was a general noise of approval, so Jeremy pushed it open.

Vagabond was lounging in the giant whirlpool tub. The room was so hot, Jeremy felt his exposed skin condensate immediately. Jeremy averted his eyes.

“Dude. What are you doing?”

“Kit - knitting a scarf. What does it look like?” Vagabond drawled. His head was back and his eyes closed.

“Looks like you’re about to pass out. It’s so hot in here,” Jeremy said. He felt like his was breathing in water

“Permit me this lu-luxury. I’ve been itching to sow- shower since I woke up. My bandages were finally removed today.”

“Alright dude. Well, when you want to do more speech stuff, let me know,” Jeremy said. He retreated from the room with a chuckle. He went back downstairs and joined Michael in a game of  _ Halo 5 _ .

Several hours later they heard another shriek upstairs. Jeremy and Michael looked up, bemused, as Geoff stomped down and headed for the kitchen.

“What’s up Geoff?” Michael called.

“That git is in my bathroom.” Geoff’s reply was curt.

“Wait. Still?”

“What do you mean, still?”

“He was in the jacuzzi this morning because he got his bandages off.”

“That motherfucker has been in my tub all day?” Geoff’s eyes were wide. Michael cackled.

“Let him be. I’m guessing he’s gone a long while without bathing,” Jeremy said.

“But that’s  _ my _ tub…”

“When was the last time you had a bath rather than a shower, Geoff?” asked Michael.

Geoff spluttered. “That - that’s not the point! That’s  _ my _ bathroom! Me’s not allowed to use  _ my  _ bathroom!”

“Well, you tell  _ him _ that,” Michael retorted.

Geoff gaped at him.

 

It was like deja vu, Jack decided, sitting on the balcony and talking with Vagabond. The man was getting better and better as each day passed.

“So how did you and Geoff f-first meet?”

Jack took a sip of his beer. Vagabond had insisted on drinking only Diet Coke. 

“As is with most things, meeting Geoff was an incident liberally soaked in alcohol. We were much younger. He was blanker, I had no beard-”

“Jesus-”

“It gets better,” Jack said and laughed. “I was the getaway driver for a small jewellery store heist. The deed went down, I screech up. The guys pile in, we peel away. They look around, pulling off their masks and high fiving and congratulating each other, when they realise that there’s one more person in the car with us. Turns out Geoff had been getting blackout drunk at the bar next door to where the heist was going down. Seeing our job in progress, he decided on a whim to rob the bar, and catch a lift with our getaway car!”

The pair laughed.

“The fucker had the audacity to give me half of what he stole and ask me to drop him off at his apartment. I forget how we got together after that… but it’s been oh, too many years now, to count where I’ve been saving his ass.”

“You sound li-like quite the reluctant partner,” Vagabond said, raising an eyebrow.

“On the contrary. I couldn’t imagine not working with Geoff. You’d be hard pressed to find any other crime boss in this city who would go along with using a giant electromagnet hanging from a chopper as a valid escape plan, let alone encourage it. Geoff is just… fun.” The grin on Jack’s face was broad and warm. It died a little though as the pair witnessed the man in question stumble to the bar inside, pouring himself another drink.

 

Geoff rounded everyone up for an excursion to the shooting range. He’d said that he wanted everyone to brush up on their skills because their forced holiday was making them all soft. The Vagabond knew better. He’d seen the whispered conversations between the boss and Jack. The phone calls on the balcony that left Geoff swearing and kicking things. The moustached man’s silhouette on the same balcony in the middle of the night, hands too tight on the railings. 

The range was only a short drive up the mountain. The rocky precipices gave way to a fine, grassy field. Targets were set up at varied distances from a small bunker. The lads were chatty as they headed inside and began picking weapons out of the cages. Vagabond trailed behind them. Jack brought up the rear with a weary looking Geoff.

Vagabond ran a hand over a row of pistols. They were dusty from disuse, but were fine for their practice purposes. He selected a large, black Glock and a clip for it. He donned earmuffs and took up a window next to the lads. He placed the gun on the ledge in front of him and flexed his fingers with a frown. Vagabond inserted the clip and flicked the safety off. He squared his shoulders and looked down the sights. The others watched him curiously.

The first shot went wide. Vagabond grunted in surprise at the noise and kick. He straightened and fired again and again. The sounds bounced around the bunker and then the gun fell silent as the clip was finished. Vagabond lowered the gun. He flicked the safety back on and placed it back on the table. He hadn’t hit the target once. He brushed a strand of hair away from his face with shaking fingers. Jack moved up beside Vagabond.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “As with everything, you just have to get used to it again. It’ll come back to you.”

Vagabond’s expression was cold as he stared down at the gun.


	11. Skills and Skulls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> Vagabond really tries to get a handle on his old skills as a mercenary.

Shouts ripped through the night. Vagabond sat up, panting and looking around wildly. Yelling echoed around the mansion and footsteps thundered outside Vagabond’s room. He scrabbled under his pillow for his knife. He flinched when the door burst open.

“Vagabond! Quick! We need to get out of here!” Jack’s large form was silhouetted by the hallway light. Vagabond nodded shakily and stumbled out of bed after Jack as the man disappeared from the room. Michael raced past, lugging a duffel bag and a fucking minigun. Jeremy was hot on his heels, weapons in each hand, barefoot and in eye-watering purple and yellow pajamas.

“What is go- going on?” The Vagabond called down the stairs.

“It’s Edgar! He’s found us” shrieked Geoff.

“Calm the fuck down!” Jack roared, grabbing his boss by the shoulder. “He hasn’t found us yet. The B-Team is reporting attacks on our main compounds. Edgar or someone else has managed to rustle up enough muscle to try and get at our servers. They think he’s trying to access the locations of our safe houses - including this one.”

“Which he might have already done! So, I will rip off your hand if you do not let go of me right now and get on the fucking bus!”

Michael and Jeremy who had paused to watched jumped and hastened for the door. Gavin scooted by, furiously typing with one hand on the laptop he was carrying.

“I’m holding him off Geoffery! He won’t find us. He just won’t,” he said.

“I’m not doubting your skills Gavvers, I just want you to get on the fucking bus so that if he  _ does _ find us we’ll already be fucking miles away!” Geoff shoved Gavin bodily from the room.

“Let’s go! All of you! Evacuation!” Geoff bellowed and he and Jack followed Gavin.

Vagabond hurried down the stairs and after them. They pounded through a door Vagabond had not previously noticed in the wall of the kitchen and down a short set of stone stairs. They headed down a long, dim tunnel. The walls here were solid rock. They were heading directly into the mountain. The knife in Vagabond’s hands was shaking. His breathing was too fast. He was not prepared. He was not ready for this. Right now he was basically useless. Like a newborn baby; stumbling, flubbing, unable to fight.

“He’s breaking through my firewalls!” Gavin’s voice was panicked. They ran faster. They emerged into a huge dark cavern. The five others dashed for the hulking form of a small passenger jet. Vagabond followed. Jack was up the stairs first, strapping himself into the pilot’s seat. The others buckled themselves into the jump seats lined on the walls. This was no luxury jet - this was stripped to the bare bones for weight reduction. This was a getaway plane. All eyes were fixed on Gavin as he balanced his laptop on his knees and continued to type furiously.

“The safety measures… gotta get them back in place… firewall restored - rerouting…” he was muttering under his breath.

The jet engines whined and white landing strip lights illuminated either side of the plane. Vagabond gulped. The walls of the cavern were barely wider than the plane’s wingspan. They were at the mercy of Jack’s skill to get them out of the mouth of the cavern without dashing the plane on the rock in a pretty fireball.

“Shiiit!” Gavin yelled.

“Come on! Get us in the air!” Geoff yelled at Jack.

“The engines are still warming up!” Jack yelled back.

The Vagabond gripped his seatbelt in shuddering hands. He was helpless here. The thought of Edgar catching them sent waves of terror through his being.

The plane rolled forward. Jack and Geoff were shouting again. Gavin’s fingers flashed over the keyboard. Jeremy was checking his clip. Michael’s eye were fixed on Gavin, his freckled face pale.

“Wait!” cried Gavin. The plane went silent. The hacker’s fingers were still above the laptop. His eyes jittered over the screen.

“He’s gone,” Gavin said. He slumped backwards in his seat with an exhausted grin. Geoff’s phone rang. He scrambled for it. He placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder as he listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line. The plane rolled to a stop, the engines revving down. Geoff’s smile was weak and he hung up his phone. He turned to the crew.

“That was Trevor. The Animals gave up. They were getting hammered too hard. They didn’t have enough men. Edgar wasn’t prepared. They fled.”

There were cheers. Jeremy reached over and ruffled Gavin’s hair.

“Well done, hacker boy!”

Gavin shoved Jeremy’s hands away with a grin.

“It’s nothing. I just had to keep moving the files around before he could drill down to them. It was nothi-” Gavin screamed. His eyes were fixed on Vagabond. He clapped a hand over them. He face flushed beet red. “Ryan! Why are you starkers, Ryan?”

There was silence as everyone stared. Vagabond looked down. He was indeed sat strapped into the aeroplane seat, completely naked save for the knife gripped in his hand.

“Not used to pu-putting on clothes…” Vagabond mumbled.

The crew broke down in fits of hysterical laughter.

 

It was not the last time the man forgot that clothing was necessary, but he was getting better at remembering to dress in the mornings. Increasingly often, he was nowhere to be found in the mansion. He’d taken to walking the short distance to the range and stayed there all day, trying to relearn the skills he’d once known. Many times Jack accompanied him, but the re-bearded man had a lot on his plate, so Vagabond usually went alone.

It was where Jeremy found him a week after their first practice session. The man was lying prone in the middle of the field, rifle up on a couple of sandbags. He let out short bursts of fire, focussing on one target, then another, moving through all the different silhouettes at the end of the range and then repeating the pattern. Jeremy shouted and waved. The Vagabond looked up. His mouth twisted to the side as he pulled the empty cartridge from the gun. He got up and headed towards Jeremy.

“Though you might like some lunch,” said the purple-suited man and he held up a brown bag. Vagabond gave him a weak smile and took the bag.

“How’s the practicing going?” Jeremy asked.

“Fucking terrible,” The Vagabond replied. He dug into the bag, pulling out a large sandwich.

“Ah,” said Jeremy.

They sat down together and The Vagabond dug into the food.

“I’m sure it’s like Jack said. The skills will come back to you. Just keep practicing. Like riding a bike - you never forget how to shoot,” Jeremy said.

The Vagabond’s chewing slowed.

“It fucking better,” he snapped.

Jeremy wrung his hands in his lap.

“So, did you want to keep doing the speech lessons at all?”

The Vagabond didn’t respond. He took another bite of food.

“Okay… We’re having pizza tonight. If you want to come down. If you want to keep at it though, that’s cool. Jack could probably bring you some,” Jeremy said.

The Vagabond gave a noncommittal grunt.

“Right. I’ll be off then,” said Jeremy. He grabbed his white cowboy hat and left the bunker. He turned back and gave it one more pitying look.

 

Several weeks passed after Edgar’s attack on the B-Team. Since then, there had been little to no word from them. Edgar had disappeared back into the ether. They were going to have to wait this one out.

They got weekly deliveries of food to the mansion. The lads were so bored that they managed to rope the delivery driver into a gaming tournament, just to freshen up their matches. Vagabond often passed the three younger members zonked out together on the giant couch, surrounded by half eaten snacks and bottles of alcohol, on his way back from the shooting range. The level of camaraderie between the Fakes still amazed him. They were always ripping on each other, but it was never real anger. Michael would get hot-headed and pissed off to the point of rattling windows with the volume of his shouting at Gavin, then in an instant turn around, grin and call him ‘boi’. Geoff acted less like a boss to the three, and more like a father figure. On more than one occasion The Vagabond had witnessed Gavin literally climb Geoff like a monkey. The moustached man barely noticed. The Vagabond knew from experience Gavin was light as a feather, but just the casualness that the crew treated their boss with was disarming. The way Geoff and Jack looked at each other with such trust was incredible. Vagabond couldn’t help but feel apart from them when the five gathered and talked and laughed and wrestled together.

 

Jack found Vagabond in the kitchen. He was filling a ziplock bag with granola bars.

“For the firing range?” Jack asked. He frowned when Vagabond flinched the tiniest bit. The man brushed his hair out of his face to cover it up.

“Yes,” he replied.

Jack watched him for a moment, then went to take a drink out of the fridge. Vagabond sealed the bag and put it in the duffel at his feet. Jack took a seat at the kitchen island and pretended to be interested in the grocery receipt Kerry had left last time he’d delivered them food.

“Careful. If Michael finds out you’ve taken all of the chocolate again, he’ll go ape,” Jack said airily.

Vagabond nodded and put several bars back. He zipped up his bag and hefted it over his shoulder.

“Did you want any help up at the range?” Jack asked.

Vagabond shook his head. Jack’s mouth twisted minutely to the side.

“I know I’ve said it before, but it will come back to you,” Jack said.

Vagabond nodded now. He didn’t meet Jack’s eyes.

“I crashed a chopper one time. Broke my pelvis, both arms, and fractured two vertebrae. I healed perfectly. Took me several months after that to even look at a helicopter again, let alone get in one. Even when I did relearn to use the controls, I had zero confidence in myself. I was terrified of it happening again. Then one day I had to rescue Jeremy and Michael from some idiotic situation as usual. They were pinned on a roof. ACPD was bearing down on the building. They were dangerously low on ammunition. Geoff and Gavin were dealing with issues of their own. It was up to me. I remember being terrified as I got in the cockpit by myself, but Jeremy and Michael needed me. I got my ass in gear and got them out of there. In the heat of the moment, as I was circling in, swooping down to the rooftop, not landing, just hovering a suitable distance from the too-fragile roof for them to get in, I forgot all about my fears. It was only after we were flying away that I realised I hadn’t once stopped to think about the crash. Enough time, and you won’t even remember not being able to do these things.  I know it’s not the same for you, but you can trust me - it will come back to you.”

Vagabond fidgeted with the strap of his bag. Jack tilted his head a little.

“You’re leaving?” he asked.

Vagabond gave a curt nod.

Jack turned his drink round in his hands. “I just told you - you’ll remember in no time. It’ll be fine-”

“It won’t! I can’t stay here! I am of n-no use to Geoff like this! I am a d-dead weight! You can all see it! I’m a liability in a f-fight. I’ll be no use against Ed…” Vagabond broke off. He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head. “...Edgar. I am of no use to this crew.”

Vagabond’s chest was heaving. Jack just sipped his drink.

“You became part of this crew when Gavin took you in. Nothing has changed since then. You are one of the Fakes. You are part of this bizarre little family, whether you like it or not.”

Vagabond looked up at Jack. “But I can’t… What good am I if I can’t fight?”

“You think you should leave then?” Jack asked sharply.

Vagabond did not reply. Jack fixed him with a soft look.

“They never thought  _ I _ was a lost cause. They never gave up on me. Every step of my recovery, this crew was there for me. Remember that.” Jack took his drink and left the kitchen. 

Jack later found all the granola bars returned to the pantry.

 

“It’s really terrible what’s happened to him,” Jeremy told Geoff. The tattooed man was pouring himself a bourbon. Gavin was sitting at the kitchen island, swinging his legs, seemingly engrossed in his laptop.

“Vagabond?”

“Yeah…”

“I know. I can’t imagine what he’s going through. If crime is the only life you’ve ever known and suddenly you lose all the skills you spent years honing… I’d be terrified personally.”

“Same…” said Jeremy. “To think that he was the guy from all those crazy-ass stories Jack was telling us. The Mad Mercenary he said he was called once. A fucking terrifying force of nature wrapped up in a black skull mask. A merciless killer. And now... His hands won’t stop shaking. I see it when I visit him up on the range.”

Gavin stopped swinging his legs.

“You haven’t heard him at night,” said Geoff. “His bedroom’s next to mine. He must have some fucking pants-pissing nightmares. He howls in his sleep.” Geoff shuddered.

“I had a few from the… fire…”

“Me too,” said Geoff. He took a large gulp of alcohol.

“I hope he feels better soon,” Jeremy said.

“Ditto,” said Geoff.

“Ah, well. I’m going to go help Jack with food,” Jeremy said, rubbing his hands together.

Gavin watched him go and bit his lip.

 

Vagabond didn’t join them for dinner, as usual. He’d stayed till well on into the night trying one weapon class after another. He’d then moved onto knives. There was a training dummy set up for the sole purpose. After several hours of sweating and accidentally cutting the back of his opposite hand and his hip, he threw the blades down and headed back to the house. His sleep was rough to nonexistent. He lay awake for the longest time just staring at the ceiling, clenching and unclenching his fists.

He’d overheard Geoff and Jack talking earlier. Edgar was causing more mayhem in Achievement City. They’d hoped he’d be like any other person in his situation and would flee the country. Edgar however, was pissed that his search for their whereabouts was going nowhere. He’d gathered the dregs of the Animals and was punishing Geoff however he could. Several members of the B-Team had been hospitalised. One had been killed. Edgar had torched several business known to be in league with the Fakes. There was no method to the madness. Edgar knew Geoff was too far away to hit back and was taking the advantage to hurt him in any way possible.

Vagabond rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. Edgar. Fucking Edgar. At some point they would have to go back and face him. They would have to take him down. How was he supposed to fight Edgar when he couldn’t even pick up a gun without feeling like his world was off balance? He’d seen the pity in the others’ eyes. Despite his talk with Jack about him really being part of this crew, he could imagine what they thought. He was a mercenary gone soft. He was weak. They needed him to be able to fight, to pull his own weight. There was one way that he could fight for them. Perhaps he could help them if he… The Vagabond squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered violently. Even thinking about it made him terrified.

His thoughts of the crew eventually drifted to Gavin. It felt so unusual to not be by the lad’s side all the time. Vagabond had wanted to seek him out and try talking to him again, but after their awkward conversation in the lounge, he knew that Gavin just needed some more time to adjust. He couldn’t help it though. Just thinking about the slender, bubbly man made something inside him ache.

He eventually drifted into an uneasy slumber.

 

He was up before dawn. Vagabond trudged up the mountainside. He would stay there until he got at least twenty headshots today. With each category of weapon. Thirty with the sniper. God how he missed using guns. They used to feel so right in his hands. The smooth action. He remembered the kick of adrenaline he used to get when he smelled gun oil. The heavy weight in his hands. The thrill of knowing he could take on anyone and everything with one in his hands. Those were gone, replaced instead by a sense of vertigo ever time he picked one up.

He sighed as he pushed open the bunker door. He walked inside and paused. On the ledge of the window he always used to practice was a black rubber skull mask. He walked slowly over to it and reached out hesitantly. He glanced around. He was certain that the rest of the crew was still at the mansion. It was so early that it was still dark.

Vagabond picked up the mask. The black rubber felt so familiar in his hands as he turned it over. The smell of the latex tickled the back of his mind. He slipped it on. It was slightly heavy upon his head, but instead he felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He stretched and rolled his neck, the rubber creaking just like it had long ago. The Vagabond grinned under the mask. He marched over to the weapon rack and picked up the Glock again. He slapped the clip in, flicked off the safety and squared up to his target. His eyes narrowed and he emptied the gun. The barrel smoked as he lowered the weapon. His hands were sure and firm as he switched the safety back on. He turned away from the window where the target lay downfield, all fifteen bullet holes grouped tight where a head would have been.

 

The Vagabond strolled back to the mansion. It had been a long, but fruitful day. He felt like himself again. No matter what weapon he picked up, it felt right. The grips of guns felt at home in his hands. Knives felt light and lethal again. That thrill of hitting whatever he was aiming at was back. He was exhausted, but happy.

The Vagabond frowned as he approached the mansion. All the lights were off. He let himself in quietly. It was too early in the evening. Surely the crew hadn’t gone to bed yet. Something must be wrong. He pulled the knife from his boot. He stepped quietly through the kitchen, heading towards the stairs. A dim blue light caught his eye. One of the giant screens on the wall seemed to be playing a movie. The Vagabond relaxed when he realised that the dark lumps on the huge couch was the rest of the crew. They were huddled together, watching a horror movie of all things. The Vagabond walked up beside the couch and looked at the screen. He didn’t think he’d seen this film - then again, he hadn’t seen any in the past few years. He watched as the two teenagers, obviously the love interests of the movie, hid under the bed. The killer’s footsteps drew nearer and nearer. Blood dripped from the machete in his hands. His hot breath fogged the air in front of his horrible clown mask. The teens shivered and covered their mouths in fear. The killer was feet away - and then he turned and left without even checking under the bed. The Vagabond harrumphed.

“Amateur,” he sneered.

At his words, the crew all looked over and screamed. The Vagabond looked at them, startled. Geoff was shrieking and backpedaling towards the edge of the couch. Gavin was attempting to hide behind him. Jack was wide-eyed and pale faced. Jeremy had fallen on the floor. Michael whipped out his pistol.

“Who are you?” he bellowed.

“Whoa! It’s me!” The Vagabond said, but his voice was muffled by his mask. He put his hands up in a peaceful gesture. Then he realised he was still holding his knife. He dropped the latter and removed the former. The Fakes stared. Michael started laughing first. Jack joined him, tears of mirth leaking from his eyes. Jeremy doubled up on the floor. Only Geoff continued to stare balefully at The Vagabond. He wasn’t sure where Gavin had gone...

“Holy shit dude! You scared the fucking piss outta me!” said Michael when he was able to draw breath again.

“Whyyy?” moaned Geoff.

“I, uh… sorry. I guess I forgot I was wearing it…” The Vagabond said, grinning apologetically.

“Fuckin’ dicks man…. Don’t you ever do that again. We could have killed you,” Geoff said. He flopped back on the couch and covered his face. Jack patted his shoulder, still chuckling and wiping his own face. The Vagabond raised an eyebrow.

“Would that have been before or after you screamed like a little girl and tried to run away?”

“Oh fuck you,” Geoff said through his fingers. The Vagabond grinned and put the mask back on.

“I have good news by the way,” he said when they’d composed themselves. 

“Oh?” asked a rather disgruntled Geoff.

The Vagabond stepped forward. He snagged an empty beer can from the table. He hefted it high into the air, flipped his knife over in his hand and speared the can into the wall several metres above the mantelpiece. There were more shouts of alarm. The crew stared from The Vagabond to the can and back again.

“I’m back,” he said with a sly grin.

 

The Vagabond thought he’d never want to not see his human face again when he looked in a mirror, but somehow, the black skull mask made him feel more at home. It brought back all the memories of working, of being a merc, of what he used to do - what he could still do. He had dusted off his knowledge of all the weapons in the crew’s arsenal, but  no longer felt the need to practice endlessly at the shooting range. He spent the time at the mansion instead, finally able to relax around the others. And he was  _ finally _ able to get his hands on an Xbox controller. He vaguely remembered playing with the green console years and years ago. He was astonished to find that this was not just the next generation of Xbox, but the one after that. Despite the intervening time, he took to the new system like a duck to water. His ancient Xbox live account was even still accessible, much to the lads’ delight.

“Double-kill!” crowed Michael.

“That’s not fair!” whined Gavin. “How’d do you even get a double-kill when it was me both times! I just bloody spawned!”

“All’s fair in love and war,” said Jack. He wasn’t playing, but was sitting at the table nearby poring over some maps of Achievement City. Geoff was with him, glass in hand as usual. Michael giggled. He cursed however as The Vagabond’s character snuck up and executed his.

“You motherfucker!”

Then Jeremy took out both Gavin and the Vagabond. 

“Aw yeah! Calling in my killstreak package! Gonna get that attack dog and set him on your…” Jeremy trailed off.

The frantic mashing of controller buttons quieted. Vagabond saw the others looked at him out of the corners of their eyes.

“Okay. It’s been long enough. You don’t all have to keep dancing around it anymore. I’m honestly surprised I didn’t get interrogated the moment I was human again. You all saw. I can turn into a dog. I know you have questions.”

The three other characters on the screen stopped moving. Jeremy, Michael and Gavin all stopped playing and turned towards the older man slightly. Vagabond heard the chair creak as Geoff leant closer behind him. He was sure Jack was listening intently too.

“Just…  _ how? _ ” asked Jeremy. He stared at Vagabond with an utterly flummoxed look on his face. Vagabond threw his head back and laughed. The other lads joined in. Geoff chuckled quietly.

“Fucking finally. We’ve all been itching to ask how you did it,” said Michael. “Jack made us promise on threat of death, dismemberment and sobriety, that we wouldn’t pester you about it till you were ready. Said something about you sorting yourself out first. I was fucking beginning to think I’d imagined the whole thing!”

“You’re not the only one,” said Geoff and the others nodded.

“I’d wondered why I wasn’t being bombarded with questions every moment of the day. Right, well. It’s something I’ve always been able to do,” The Vagabond said with a shrug. “It runs in my family. We are born with the ability to shift into an animal at will.”

Michael smacked a fist into his palm.

“Damnit. Here I was hoping you were a werewolf. If I could have gotten you to bite me so I could turn into a wolf too - oh boy,” he said, screwing his face up in disappointment.

“Sorry Michael. Genetic mutation only,” The Vagabond said.

“What would you do as a dog that you don’t already do?” Jeremy turned to Michael.

The lad shrugged. “Rip people to shreds with my teeth?”

“To be fair, you kind of already did that… that one time…” said Geoff, raising a finger.

“Oh yeah…” Michael put a finger to his chin as a faraway look came into his eyes. He grinned.

“Go on Vagabond,” said Jack.

“Right,” said the dark-haired man. “Also, not a dog. Technically, I’m a wolf. But, like a really, really big one.”

“Tolja’ he was a dire-wolf,” said Jeremy. Michael shoved him.

“For the first part of my life it was basically just another aspect of my skillset. My form is great for stealth work, and has great tracking capabilities. Not to say that all shifters work on the wrong side of the law, but when you have these kinds of abilities, it makes it so much easier. My family is deeply rooted in it.”

“He was born for a life of crime,” Geoff said to titters. Vagabond shrugged again.

“Well, that and I was good at it. You know my reputation.”

“Speaking of - half of the stories I’ve heard about you can’t be true? Seriously. It’s just not possible for one man - granted, one who can shift into a wolf the size of a house - to have done the things they say you have!” said Jeremy. Vagabond fixed him with those intense blue eyes. He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling up in a cruel grin.

“Okay. I take back everything I just said. You are so fucking creepy I’ll believe it,” Jeremy said. He curled in on himself a little and shifted away from The Vagabond on the couch. The crew laughed.

“Let the shifter finish his story,” Jack said.

“That’s actually what we prefer to call ourselves. And, well, also where this whole story starts. With a man by the name of Edgar.”

The others sat up.

“Wait! Are you saying that Edgar…?” Geoff asked, his eyes wide in alarm. 

Vagabond shook his head and sighed. “No. And that was the problem…”

 

 

Notes: MY VERY FIRST FANART! :D  
[Blaufluffandstuff on Tumblr drew the lovely Vagabond in his doggy form! Lookit!](http://theorangewritingranger.tumblr.com/post/161086675752/blaufluffandstuff-been-reading)  
  



	12. Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> The one with some fluff...

“Edgar is my distant cousin,” said The Vagabond. “We’re related by blood in some convoluted way. The shifter community is tight, so there may be some… inbreeding, as the joke goes. Shifters who have children with non-shifters have the chance that the abilities won’t be passed on. Both of my parents were shifters. My mother was a grizzly; my father was a fox. I guess combining the two makes sense when you look at my form. Edgar’s parents were both shifters too, but when he reached the age where your first change is supposed to happen, he couldn’t. You can imagine the stink this raised. Either Edgar was extremely unlucky, or his mother… well. Either way. He was stuck in our world, without our power. To make up for these shortcomings, he became the most ruthless crime boss I have ever known - no offence Geoff.”

The tattooed man raised his hands and shrugged. “Hey, there’s no fun in being ruthless  _ all _ the time. Fuck. You need to lighten up once in a while in this line of work.”

“So Edgar built his empire. He grew bigger than either of his parents ever were, and was even comparable to the heads of our family.”

“Shifter mob families…  _ su-weet… _ ” Jeremy added in a low tone. 

“His  _ deficiencies _ never left him though. I believe he thought that in some way he’d been denied a birthright. Apparently he poured a fuck-ton of money into researching shifter genealogy, genetics, and the whole process behind how our power works. That’s where I came in. I had gone solo for quite a while, building my name as a mercenary.”

“Hah. Lone wolf,” Michael whispered. The lads jumped and laughed as The Vagabond growled softly at the terrible pun. The Vagabond man clasped his hands in his lap and continued.

“I had a nice gig going. The family contacted me one day though. Shifters were being targeted for some unknown reason. A lot of them had been going missing. They paid me to look into the matter.”

The Vagabond’s knuckles were white where he clenched them against his legs. His eyes were fixed on them. The lines of his face turned hard.

“The family had originally thought that the government had finally found us out and were hunting us down. My research however led me to believe that whoever was doing this had inside sources. Which then led me to Edgar. He’d been catching and experimenting on shifters… I believe he was better trying to understand how to counter their shifting abilities. His sick, twisted mentality was one of ‘If I can’t have these powers, then neither will anyone else.’”

The room was deathly quiet. Geoff was literally sat on the edge of his seat. His glass of whiskey sat forgotten on the table, glass condensing slowly. Jack had his arms folded, and there was a hard look in his normally soft eyes. Jeremy, Gavin and Michael were crowded on the end of the couch, expressions morbid. The Vagabond took a deep breath.

“It’s - it’s hard to remember some of the details. And then there are some things I cannot forget… I recall discovering the plans to Edgar’s private research facilities back then. That was the only data I had though. I couldn’t for the life of me find, buy, bribe or threaten any more information out of anyone. So, I decided to go and investigate personally. I was just going to scout the area, see what kinds of supplies he was having delivered, etcetera, etcetera. I didn’t… I didn’t antic- anticipate…”

The Vagabond shook his head and continued.

“I don’t remember the fight. I just remember being… overwhelmed. There were so many of them. They grabbed me and dragged me inside the building. I did what any shifter does in this situation. I changed. It - it’s harder to t-torture information out of an-an animal that cannot speak…”

The Vagabond stiffened at the hand on his shoulder. He looked up sharply, but relaxed a fraction realising it was just Jack. The Vagabond cleared his throat.

“It’s hard to say how long Edgar kept me in his facility. I would be left alone for what felt like weeks on end. Then there would suddenly be bouts of torture… It could have been months, or even years. I don’t remember.” The Vagabond shivered. “Eventually, Edgar must have decided I was a lost cause, or a waste of resources - I don’t know. But I was taken to be killed. In our culture, the greatest insult to an individual is an animal’s death. You may have heard in the past the cruel way people would kill unwanted puppies or kittens?”

The lads looked confused, but Jack gave a low, angry curse.

“They put them in a bag. They weigh the bag down with rocks. Then they throw the bag in a well. My well was the ocean.”

The five Fakes stared at The Vagabond. His eyes were screwed shut. His breathing was uneven.

“The water was so cold… It was so dark… The bag was suffocating me at first, but then I would have given anything to be suffocating again, rather than the terror that is drowning. Your lungs ache for oxygen. You feel as if they will implode. Then when you can no longer stand it and you breathe in, it’s not air, but ice. You cough and choke, but all that does is drag more water into your body. The cold and the dark leeches your life away…”

“How did you survive?” whispered Geoff.

“Not a clue. I woke up under Del Perro Pier. I terrified the tourists as I stumbled away. Someone must have called animal control. From there it was the pound. In that cage I realised that I couldn’t change. The long months or years I’d spent in Edgar’s capture, the torture… something had broken in me. It’s hard to remember that time. All I was, was confusion and anger. They must have thought me rabid even. I’m surprised they didn’t just put me down. A man came for me though. I remember his face. A cruel, pinched thing. Flabby. He always had hard hands - never more than a word away from a blow from his fist or a weapon. There were other dogs. Just… a constant pain…” The Vagabond reached up to his neck with a hand. “I look back now and I realise that I’d been reduced to the basest of animal instincts. My humanity had completely fled me. I was nothing more than a dog.”

The Vagabond looked out the window.

“The clearest memory I have after that is waking up in a garden. I thought I was in heaven. The collar was gone. There was food. Oh, god, the food. It was glorious. I hadn’t eaten properly in I don’t know how long. I was sure I was dead and in some better place. However, there came more people. They tried to ply me with food, but people are cruel; I attacked them. I realise now that was you Jack, and I apologise,” The Vagabond said, nodding to him.

Jack waved it away. “Not necessary.”

“It was only when someone began talking to me that I began to remember. I remembered that I wasn’t just a dog. Somewhere before all of the chains and kennels and the torture, I had been human.”

The Vagabond clutched at his head.

“There was one bad thing about remembering though…”

He looked up, meeting their eyes with his blue ones.

“And again, it was Edgar,” he said. The venom in the man’s voice was enough to make all five members of the feared crime syndicate shiver.

“When I woke up in the garden and realised I was free of a collar in a chain, I was fixated on getting back at him. You can’t imagine the pain - no, the  _ agony _ \- the absolute soul-crushing, world-ending torment that I wanted to bring upon that man. I wanted - I  _ needed _ to find him and rend that fucking form-less prick into hamburger so fine you could serve it at a five-star restaurant…” A savage growl had crept into The Vagabond’s voice. The Fakes had instinctively sat back. 

“That’s why I went after him at the docks. It was all I could think about. I heard his voice and I just wanted to shred him into tiny pieces.”

“You and me both,” said Michael with a laugh.

The Vagabond gave him a wan smile. “And I believe I should apologise for that as well. It was out of line for me to try to go off like that.”

“Pssh! I’ve fuckin’ hurt myself worse doing dumb shit just messing around with these idiots.” Michael jostled Jeremy and Gavin. “A few scars, but I’m good,” he said.

“Nevertheless - it woke me up a little more. It reminded me to use my head. Instead of just tearing after Edgar and getting myself and others killed, I could be smart about it. When you mentioned Estelle, I realised I could actually be helpful - and I thought it might be a good apology for Michael's injuries. See, I knew Estelle long ago. She also dealt weapons to my family on more than one occasion. I was able to track her to one of her old hiding places. Then I just had to herd her back to you. She was crafty, but there’s not many people who can outrun a seven-foot long wolf.”

The others laughed. The Vagabond smiled but then sighed.

“It helped a lot, learning to work with you guys. Being taken on jobs, being included, even just being talked to. Every day I was treated like a human, I felt more human. But I still couldn’t transform. I tried and I tried. I was at my wits end right before we commenced the attack on Edgar. I guess I just need a heat-of-the moment situation.”

He and Jack shared a small smile.

“So, how long have you actually been a wolf for then?” asked Jeremy.

The Vagabond scratched his stubble under his mask. “I believe it was 2005 when I was scoping out Edgar’s facilities.”

“Holy shit… that means you’ve been under for-” Jeremy counted quickly on his fingers, “- twelve years.”

“How come you never tried to let us know what you really were?” asked Michael.

“It’s not like I didn’t try. I tried to type messages on the computer. I was too clumsy though. I tried looking for a game of Scrabble too, to try to use the letters, but you heathens don’t have any good board games,” The Vagabond said with a shrug. The others laughed.

“Oh! So that’s why we found keyboards and controllers chewed,” said Jack.

The Vagabond nodded. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. None of you would have believed me.”

They all nodded solemnly at this. 

“Could we… could you show us again?” Jeremy asked.

The Vagabond’s hands clenched tight in his lap again. “I, uh - not right now. K-kinda tired. The transformation takes a lot out of you and…”

“That’s okay then. I was just curious,” Jeremy said, flapping his hands.

The Vagabond’s shoulders relaxed.

“Still - it’s super fucking cool. I wish I could be a shifter,” said Michael. He sat back against the couch and picked up his controller again.

“Agreed! Hey, what animal would you want to be if you could?” Jeremy asked.

“Ooh, tough question. Something big. Something ferocious! Like a huge bear!”

“Pfffft. You wouldn’t be a bear. You’re too small. You’re a little ball of fury. I know! You’d be like a cat! A little ginger kitty-cat!” said Jeremy.

Michael glared at him. “No fuckin way I’m a cat! If I’m a cat, then you’d have to be something smaller. Tiny and round and dense - like a hamster. No! I got it! You’d be fuckin’ chinchilla,” Micahel sniggered.

Jeremy gawped at the redhead. “A chinchilla! How is this a chinchilla?” he yelled, pointing at himself.

“Little and soft and harmless,” Michael said, a nasty grin curling at his mouth.

“You take that back!” Jeremy launched himself at Michael and the two rolled off the couch. The sound of cursing and knuckles on flesh followed. The Vagabond watched bemusedly as he picke up his controller and moved his character around to kill both of theirs.

“It’s an interesting thought,” Jack said, stroking his beard. “What do you think I’d be?” he asked The Vagabond. The man glanced at him.

“Well, with your size and stature, and your magnificent beard, I’d go with a lion perhaps,” he said.

Jack chortled.

“What about me?” asked Geoff.

The Vagabond looked back at Geoff, lips pursed. “Hm…”

“I know!” squeaked Jeremy from where Michael had him in a headlock. “I know! Ram! As in Geoff Ram-sey!”

The others groaned.

“A ram! I don’t wanna be a goat!” Geoff said, his voice cracking in several places.

“I think it suits,” said Jack with a mocking grin.

“I am not a ram!”

“Tough. You’re stuck with it now,” said The Vagabond.

Geoff huffed and snatched up his drink.

“I wanna be a cool animal…” he mumbled.

“What about Gav?” Michael asked. He was still on the floor with Jeremy, the short lad turning a similar purple to his clothing.

“I dunno. The way he squawks, he could be some kind of bird. Where is he anyway?” Geoff said and looked around. The others glanced about.

“He might have gone to bed already,” Jack said with a shrug.

The Vagabond frowned. He killed Michael, Jeremy and Gavin’s characters a few more times.

“I guess now is a better time than ever to thank you all,” he said.

He could feel Geoff’s and Jack’s stares on him. Michael and Jeremy stopped wrestling and sat up.

“Thank us? We are the ones who should be thanking  _ you _ ,” snorted Geoff.

“No, really. Without all of you, I would never have been able to change back. You reminded me how to be human.”

“Dude, you saved our hides more than once. That first night in the rain when you shredded the Hellhound who was about to shoot me. Then you found that backstabbing bitch Estelle. And then you saved us from being roasted alive by Edgar!” said Geoff.

“We’ll call it even then,” The Vagabond said with a grin.

“Speaking of which. How longer will we have to spend camped out here? I’m not complaining about the astonishing views, but I kind of miss the penthouse. When do you think we should go back to Achievement City? We have to face Edgar at some point,” said Michael.

Geoff just fiddled with his drink. Jack watched him closely.

 

Geoff was standing out on the balcony. It was a bright, cloudless night. The gibbous moon dusted the forest below with silver. One of the boss’s hands was curled around a drink as usual, the other on the glass railing.

“Nice night,” he said, voice tight.

“M-hm.” Jack nodded.

The wind was the loudest thing out here. It whistled down from the mountaintops, rattling evergreens as it descended into the valley below.

“So when  _ are  _ you planning for us to go back?” asked Jack.

Geoff groaned. “Fuck. Not you too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Trevor’s been hounding me as well. Says it’d be better if we were back in AC. It’s - it’s not safe! Edgar’s on the loose! The location of this place has been kept from that dickwad, but I don’t know if the penthouse is safe anymore!” Geoff stared out at the forest. His grey-blue eyes were hard and bloodshot. Jack bit his lip.

“We can’t stay here forever…” he said softly.

“The hell we can’t!”

Jack joined him at the railing and looked out over the trees too. He could feel the tension radiating off the tattooed man.

“I was scared, you know. I was scared for the lads. They’re so young. I know one doesn’t get to a ripe old age in this business, but they are still much too young to go out. I was scared for myself too. It felt like a hot blanket was being wrapped around my face. I couldn’t breathe. But I was scared for you most. We all looked to you to get us out of there. We always look to you in times of crisis. We need you to tell us what to do. That’s a shitload of pressure for you all the time.”

“Well, right now, what I’m tell you all to do is to stay the-fuck put! Right here! Edgar can’t find us here!” Geoff yelled, whirling to face Jack. “You all seem so eager to just throw yourselves back at him without even-”

“And I know you’re still scared,” Jack said, cutting him off.

Geoff gaped at Jack.

“It’s okay to admit it,” Jack said softly.

Geoff turned away and hunched his shoulders. Jack moved closer and placed his hands gently on Geoff’s back. Slowly he began to rub the boss’s shoulders, easing the tension out of the muscles with his fingers. After a while, Geoff let out a shaky breath. He leant into Jack’s hands.

“Of course I’m scared,” he muttered. “I just want you all to be safe.”

“Geoff. I often think that you forget that they’re hardened criminals. Michael's warrant list is longer than yours. We’re all healed. The burns are gone. Even The Vagabond seems better. We have the country’s most dangerous mercenary on our team now. There is no way that Edgar could stand a chance.”

Geoff sighed and let his head fall forward. “I know. You’re right. You really are. I just… I gotta think about it…”

Jack continued the shoulder massage in silence for a few seconds.

“Have you thought about it yet?” he asked.

Geoff smirked and slapped the other man. “Smartass.”

Jack chuckled and went back to Geoff’s shoulders. The older man sighed again, practically melting against the glass railing.

“That’s amazing. I love you, Jack.”

Jack stopped for a moment, then resumed rubbing Geoff’s shoulders. Fractions of a second later Geoff yelped and spun around.

“I - I didn’t mean that!”

Jack’s expression was hard to read.

“I mean - what I meant to say is that I love the shoulder massages. Very good. Stress relieving you know. Very stressed right now - with the Edgar thing,” stammered Geoff.

Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Listen! It just slipped out! I didn’t mean it like that, I swear!” Geoff’s voice cracked like a highschooler’s.

Jack shrugged. “Understandable. Did you want me to continue then…?”

“I uh - yes - wait, no. Um…”

“You’re still stressed though?”

“Yes but…” Geoff rubbed covered his face and groaned. He dropped his hand and looked up to see that Jack had moved closer. His breath hitched as he looked up into Jack’s soft brown eyes.

“You don’t have to,” Geoff said, voice meek.

“Geoff. I want to though. You need it, and, well, I like doing it.”

“No really. I’ll be fine. Uh, you can go do whatever it was you were doing before,” said Geoff.

Jack frowned and lowered his hands. “Okay,” he said softly.

Geoff let out a breath as Jack turned and began walking away. Jack stopped suddenly though. He whirled back around and straightened up.

“No. You know what? I am not walking away this time.”

Geoff looked startled.

“I’m tired of avoiding this. I’m tired of dancing around it. Why do you keep pushing me away?” Jack demanded.

“I - wha…?” Geoff stammered.

“Geoff. We’ve been working together for near on fifteen years now. In the beginning I thought you were oblivious. I got over that at some point and made myself believe that you just weren’t interested. I have now returned to the opinion that you’re a fucking blind. And an idiot.” Jack was pacing now. Geoff watched him, his jaw hanging open.

“Geoff. I would go to the ends of the earth for you. I would follow you anywhere. I knew that from the moment you got out of my car after that jewelry store robbery. The way you walked away, like you owned the world already…” Jack stopped and stared at Geoff. The tattooed man looked like a deer in headlights. Jack approached him slowly.

“We’ve know each other for the best part of our lives. I was there for your wedding, and for your divorce. I have always been there for you. I always will be.”

Geoff shook himself and turned away from Jack. He grabbed the railing again with shaking hands.

“Jack…”

“Geoff…”

“You can’t - you can’t just say that. You were there for my divorce, yes, so you remember  _ why  _ I got divorced! It was to keep him safe! The life I lead is too dangerous for that! He was so scared all the time…”

Jack gave a weak chuckle. “And you think I would be? How many times has each of us been held hostage Geoff? We’re used to it by now!”

“It’s not - you can’t - people would use it against us! They would use it as leverage! They would know that I would come for you because…”

Geoff felt Jack draw nearer. The red bearded man’s voice was soft now.

“So you admit that you would come for me…”

“I always have…” Geoff whispered.

“Then why are you pushing me away?” Jack’s voice was barely audible over the wind that crooned through the evergreens.

Geoff’s knuckles grew white on the glass railing. He bowed his head. Jack moved even closer. Geoff could feel the man’s breath on the back of his neck, making the hairs there stand on end. Jack ran his fingers lightly down Geoff’s inked arm. Geoff shivered. Jack’s big, warm hand came to rest on Geoff’s tense one. Slowly, the fingers released their death-grip on the rail. Geoff allowed Jack to take his hand and slowly he turned to look up into Jack’s face. Geoff’s brow was creased with worry. 

“I never… I never thought that you would want… I’m old. I’m stupid. I’m reckless… Are you sure you want to put up with that?”

“I always have…” Jack said and smiled. He cradled Geoff’s cold hand in his two large ones. The tattooed man was still shaking and tense.

“You know what’s  _ really _ good stress relief?” Jack asked.

Geoff shook his head wordlessly. Jack tugged him gently to the balcony doors and and led him into the master bedroom. Geoff followed dumbly, unable to take his eyes off the playful grin now on Jack’s lips.

 

The next day, Geoff was bright eyed and bushy tailed as he barged into each of the Fakes’ rooms and tipped them out of bed.

“Rise and shine, my sleeping beauties! We’re going home! Edgar’s been wrecking our shit and it’s high time we exterminated his cockroach-y little ass.”

“Fucking finally!” yelled Michael, kicking his legs and untangling himself from his sheets.

“Why do you always mix the animal metaphors?” Jeremy said through a yawn as he picked himself up off the floor.

“Because I’m the boss. Now move your purple and orange ass!”

Jeremy followed him downstairs to find Gavin and Michael sitting, bleary eyed at the table. Gavin was in a rumpled t-shirt and sweatpants. Michael was in just boxers. Both were slowly pouring themselves cereal. Ryan was already dressed and had finished off a Diet Coke. He pulled his mask back down his face. The crew had taken a little time to get used to the black skull, but it was normal for them to see The Vagabond with it more often than not now. Jeremy slid into the seat next to Michael and pulled the milk closer. Jack was humming as he moved about the kitchen, making coffee.

“How do you like yours, Vagabond?” he called.

“Cold,” replied the masked man. Jack raised an eyebrow. The Vagabond chuckled and tapped the empty can in his hand.

“My caffeine of choice. Was never one for coffee,” he said.

Jack shrugged and brought over mugs for the other four. The lads mumbled their thanks. Geoff tried to hide a grin when Jack passed him his. He overdid it though and ended up looking a little annoyed. Michael was watching the two older men, his expression shrewd.

“Trouble in paradise?” he asked.

Geoff looked up, wide-eyed. “W-what?” He turned to Jack. “You didn’t - did you tell them?”

Jack looked confused. The others were staring curiously at the pair now.

“Tell us what?” asked Jeremy.

Geoff looked between Jack and the rest of the crew in a panic. “Jack… I was going to wait a while to tell them at least…” he whined.

“Tell us what?” Gavin asked.

Jeremy’s face went pale. “Oh no. You guys! Please tell me you’re not getting a divorce!”

“No!” said Michael in utter disbelief.

All eyes turned on Geoff and Jack. 

“A… what?” stuttered Jack.

“A divorce? No! I was concerned that Jack had already told you guys that we got together last night!” said Geoff, his voice cracking with every second word.

“Huh?” Confusion coloured Gavin’s tone.

“...got together? Wait - are you guys telling us that you  _ haven’t  _ been banging for years now?” asked a dumbfounded Michael.

“ _ Only last night...? _ ” Jeremy was flabbergasted. 

The Vagabond was chuckling beneath his mask.

“You guys thought we were together already?” Geoff said, staring around at them.

“Of course!” The three lads answered in unison.

“I mean, why else would you have stuck together for so long-” said Michael.

“Jack’s basically a mom-” said Jeremy.

“And you argue like a married couple!” said Gavin.

“You’re the perfect pair!” added Jeremy.

“Congratulations, I guess,” said The Vagabond.

Geoff put his head in his hands. Jack laughed and patted him on the back.


	13. A Missing Piece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> The Vagabond takes care of some human details he's forgotten, while Gavin sees something unusual...

They were very careful in their return to Achievement City. They took nondescript vehicles. They told only but the most necessary in the B-Team. The tower was completely empty apart from them. When they got up to the penthouse, the first thing Geoff did was activate blackout protocols. Dark shutters descended over all of the huge windows. They disconnected from the main city power grid and switched to the backup power cells stored in the floor directly below. For all intents and purposes, the penthouse apartment still looked to be empty from the outside. On the inside, it was a flurry of activity. The five Fakes were a machine when they really worked together. With The Vagabond in the mix, they were now dangerously fast. He was such an asset to them that Geoff even overlooked The Vagabond’s first time back behind the wheel. The crime-boss’s beloved X80 had been a total writeoff…

Despite their incredible teamwork, there was still a lot to do before they were able to finish Edgar off. They had no idea where he was for starters. The Animals were fractured and in hiding. The Fakes had bombed every safe house the Animals owned, and it would take time to find the new ones. Geoff had sent a select few members of the B-Team to try and infiltrate the Animals now that their security was likely more lax. Edgar was wary though. He didn’t have his perfectly planned trap anymore. He was hiding from the Fakes as much as they were hiding from him. A dangerous game of cat and mouse, where they were both feline and rodent at the same time.

The preparations allowed The Vagabond to get back into the swing of things. He had been extremely grateful for the chance to recover in peace up in the mountains, but to be honest, he would have gone stir crazy had they stayed there any longer. In Achievement City, he was in his element. Running jobs with Michael. Acting as Jeremy’s backup when they met with dealers. Helping Geoff and Jack in the planning room. It was all coming back to him. But, as much as he felt like himself again, there was still something missing that he couldn’t quite pin down.

 

“There have been whispers getting around,” said Jack. He hefted a duffel bag onto the table where Ryan was cleaning some of the weaponry he’d been loaned.

“Of?” asked the mercenary.

“Of a terrifying figure in a black skull mask. They’re saying he’s returned to the city…” Jack said with a chuckle. The Vagabond laughed.

“I have been gone for a while. Which reminds me actually. I’ve been living off the crews’ generosity for quite a while now. I’d like to pay it back-”

“Not necessary,” Jack said holding up a hand.

The Vagabond frowned under his mask. “I don’t like being in debt to you all. I should at least pay Geoff back for the car…”

“Within this crew, things like that don’t matter. We should actually be the ones paying  _ you _ . I’ve got to remember when you started with us. We owe you a fuckton of backpay,” Jack said.

“Backpay? I’ve only been human again, for what, a month? I’ve just been sitting on my ass in that time as well…”

“No, no, before that! When we brought you in. It was still you then,” replied Jack.

“You can’t be serious. I was nothing more than an animal at that point. You can’t honestly think I’ll accept being paid for that time.” The Vagabond narrowed his eyes.

“I can and I will.”

“Hell no! If you really have to, you can start when I first came up into the penthouse. That’s when I really was trying to figure myself all out again.”

“We’ll start when you started ‘talking’ to Gavin,” Jack said with a sly smile.

The Vagabond threw up his hands. “You’re impossible. This crew is impossible. I can’t believe I’m haggling you  _ down _ on paying  _ me _ . You’re too  _ nice _ to be criminals!”

Jack just looked smug. “We’re kind of missing a major point though,” he said.

“Oh?”

“Do you still have a bank account we can transfer money into?”

The Vagabond blinked. “You know, I honestly have no clue. I should probably look into that. I believe I was human at one point. I think I had an apartment too.” He sat up suddenly, eyes wide. “My plants!”

 

Jeremy went with him. They drove through the city for ages. In the twelve intervening years, The Vagabond had completely forgotten where his old apartment even was. It didn’t help that the city had changed so much either.

They watched buildings go by on either side as The Vagabond tapped on the steering wheel. He bit his lip.

“I distinctly remember it being close to an ammo shop. I could basically walk down the street when I was low and pick up supplies.”

“But it was downtown?” asked Jeremy. He nibbled on the arm of his sunglasses.

The Vagabonds scratched his head. “I think so?”

“I dunno dude. Maybe the shop moved on since then. I don’t remember there being any ammo shops this far into the city-” Jeremy choked off as The Vagabond slammed on the brakes. There was angry honking behind them. The masked mercenary ignored them. He was peering out of the driver side window at a park.

“That looks… familiar,” he said. “The trees are taller though.”

“That’s good! A landmark you recognise!”

“Hm…” They drove on. “And I think… I think there was a turnoff beside a pink building…”

“A pink building? Oh! I know that one! That’s just up here!” Jeremy said, pointing to their left. The Vagabond took the corner and the drove up a small hill. The Vagabond went slowly as he craned his neck around.

“See anything else you recognise?” Jeremy asked.

“Not yet…”

They continued along the road at a snail’s pace. Cars behind them honked irritably and drove around them. Jeremy flipped them off as they went. 

“They wouldn’t be so rude if they knew who you were,” he said.

The Vagabond ignored him. He was concentrating too hard on trying to grasp at memories that felt like flimsy cobwebs. Finally he saw a building he recognised. They pulled up to the kerb and got out. The Vagabond took off his mask and stuffed it into his pocket. The apartment building was a five storey tenement. It looked newer than those beside it, but was still a rather ugly shade of pistachio green. Cheap gardens led up to the lobby. The Vagabond stopped and examined the intercom. He ran his finger down the list of names beside their buttons. He stopped at one.

“James King?” Jeremy read over his shoulder.

“An old alias. It’s a promising start that it’s still there. Or whoever’s living there has just been too lazy to change it.”

The Vagabond moved a finger up one button and he frowned. He pushed the button. After a few moments a flowery old voice crackled through the speaker.

“Yes?”

“Ms. Barca?”

“Yes? Who are you?”

“Ms Barca, it’s James. I’ve uh… I’ve been away for a while. I’m back though and it appears I’ve lost my key.”

“James! Dear James! Oh, come on up, dear thing. I never thought I’d see you again!”

The door buzzed and opened. The Vagabond pushed through and glanced at Jermey. The shorter lad had his eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Oh shut up. Don’t tell me you don’t befriend your neighbours to reassure them that you’re not actually a criminal and a mass murderer?”

“Dude, no way. I don’t know anyone in my building. We millennials live under rocks and post on the internet. Why would we ever talk to each other?” Jeremy replied.

 

Ms Barca turned out to look exactly as her voice made her sound. She was ancient and thin, with wispy grey hair and immediately invited the both of them in for tea. The Vagabond politely took a raincheck, citing the need to check on his apartment now that he was back.

The locked door delayed them for only a second. When it was picked though, The Vagabond paused with his hand on the doorknob. He hadn’t know what would happen the last time he’d closed this door. He’d left on what he’d thought was just a regular scouting operation. He had no idea he wouldn’t be coming back. The intervening years seemed to vanish. Memories of lying in the cold grass behind a high fence, looking through binoculars at the facility suddenly swam into the forefront of his brain.

The place had been almost motionless. He’d counted several guards and had almost memorised their rotations when he’d felt heavy hands on his back. He hadn’t even heard them approaching. He rolled immediately, lashing up with a fist, connecting with an elbow, hearing a shriek of pain. He was still down though and before he could scrambled to his feet, they were on him. One of them smashed him in the nose with the butt of a gun. He reeled, striking weakly at the man. Blinking stars and blood from his eyes, he grappled with the gun, trying to rip it from the man’s hands. There was a short tug of war, but the attacker won. He brought the gun up again. The Vagabond tried to twist the to the side, but someone else had joined the fray, pinning his hips to the frosty ground, further immobilizing him. The second strike made him black out for a second. When he came to, he was on his face in the dark, cold earth, hands being yanked behind his back. He struggled furiously, but they had him well and truly held down. He cursed between his teeth as they dragged him to his feet and into the compound. He was still dazed from the hits on the head and he felt nauseous. Fantastic. A concussion probably. When he could get his feet under him, these men were in for the ass kicking of their lives. They dumped him in an empty cement room and shackled him to the wall. He struggled to sit up. His head was still spinning from the blows. He wasn’t left alone for long though. The Vagabond looked up into the unsettling black eyes of a cow mask.

“The fuck?” he said.

“You don’t like it?” Edgar’s voice was pleasant, if a little muffled under the rubber. “I thought it would really appeal to you. It combines your preference for masks with the heritage of our families!” He pulled it off and smoothed back his dark hair.

“What exactly are you doing here Edgar? Why are you kidnapping our people? What are you doing with them?” The Vagabond snapped.

Edgar toyed with the mask in his hands. The polite smile on his face widened slightly. 

“Trying to spy on me, are you?”

“Our families want to know where their people are vanishing to. What have you been doing to them? I know you have them. I tracked them here.”

“Showing your hand a little early there, cousin.”

“Fuck you. Valerie was crying when she asked me to do this. Her twins are missing. I know you have them here,” snarled The Vagabond.

Edgar only smiled wider. “No need to snap, dear cousin. Of course I’ll tell you! Or perhaps… perhaps I will show you…”

The Vagabond’s swimmy head suddenly snapped into focus. Edgar had been capturing shifters. Now he was trapped here. He did the only thing he could think to protect himself. His shirt and jacket ripped as he transformed. His boots slid off his paws. His mask peeled off his snout. He yelped as his paws were pinched in the now, much too tight handcuffs.

Edgar’s expression soured.

“Vagabond…”

Jeremy clicked his fingers in front of The Vagabond’s eyes. The man reeled back.

“Whoa!” Jeremy grabbed his arm and steadied him. “You alright there?”

The Vagabond shook his head.

“I… yeah. Just remembered… remembered last time I was here.”

“You good now?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

Jeremy nodded and let him go. The Vagabond pushed the door open. The hinges creaked from disuse. It was dim inside and stayed that way when The Vagabond tried the lightswitch. Fair, he supposed. The electricity would have been shut off a long time ago. He probably had several million  _ Last Notice _ envelopes stuffed in his post office box. The apartment was musty and smelled off. The living room showed signs of a very old break in. The television was gone, and it was safe to assume that most other appliances were also. A thick layer of dust lay upon everything. Jeremy gasped as he walked into the kitchen.

On the counter were several potted plants. All but one were empty. The one remaining plant had gone absolutely wild. The enormous orchid basked in sunlight from the window and sprawled all over the countertop. It spilled down the sides of the cabinet and had attempted to climb to the ceiling which bowed alarmingly. Water stains on the swollen plasterboard showed how the plant had thrived all these years. The orchid was drenched in pure white blooms.

“Glad to see at least one survived,” The Vagabond said with a bemused smile.

“Holy shit dude. Survived is an understatement. That thing took over!” said Jeremy. “ _ Feed me, Seymour! _ ”

The Vagabond chuckled. Jeremy started going through cupboards. There wasn’t much left. All the perishables had long ago been eaten by rats, which had also moved on in the absence of any more food. All that was left were a few cans with the labels chewed off, and a copious amount of rat droppings.

The bedroom was spartan. The bed had been stripped, the mattress gone. Empty hangers were all that was left in the closet. The Vagabond crossed to the sliding closet and reached for the back wall. A secret panel came away in his hands. Behind it was a large rack of weaponry. Jeremy whistled, but The Vagabond frowned. The guns had not held up well over the years. The rubber grips and stocks had all decayed with disused. He saw rust creeping in here and there. They took them all anyway. They packed them into the bags he and Jeremy had brought. At the bottom of the secret compartment there was another duffel. It was very similar to the one The Vagabond had dug up in the desert. Inside was another black skull mask, a pistol, a silencer, bundles of cash and a different paperback. This one had a few fake passports slipped in with it too. Jeremy and The Vagabond flipped through them all. They all had long since ‘expired’. The Vagabond was startled to see how much younger he looked in the pictures. Twelve years was a long time. How old was he now? 

With the weapons packed, there really wasn’t much else to do. The Vagabond lingered in the kitchen, gently stroking the petals of the rogue orchid as Jeremy moved all the bags to the door.

“Did you want to take it with us?” Jeremy asked, coming to stand beside him.

The Vagabond shook his head.

“I think it would damage him too much to take him with us. He’s pretty established here.”

“He?”

“Shut up. I didn’t have any pets. It’s… kind of weird for shifters. So I had plants instead,” said The Vagabond. Jeremy laughed.

“Big scary Vagabond and his precious pot plants. It’s cute.” Jeremy gasped as Ryan socked him lightly in the stomach.

The Vagabond looked around the room.

“Should we go then?”

“Sure,” replied Jeremy once he’d gotten his breath back.

They hefted the bags on their shoulders and shut the door behind them. The Vagabond frowned as they headed down the stairwell. He wasn’t really sure what he’d expected to find in the old apartment. Perhaps something to fill that empty ache that still lingered in his chest. 

 

The next step in reclaiming his old life was to try and access his bank accounts again. The Vagabond had no idea how to go about this. He didn’t remember which alias they were under, let alone the account numbers. He never kept them written down for security reasons. He’d wracked his brain for ages, but had still come up with nothing. 

“I know I have money, just got no idea how to access it…” he complained to Jack.

“You don’t even remember what banks you’re with?” Jack asked.

“Not a clue. Those sort of details become unimportant when you’re fighting off other dogs for food scraps…”

Jack rubbed his chin. “Well, we’ll set you up a new one for now and pay your wage into that. Maybe then you should talk to Gavin about it.”

The Vagabond sat up. “Why Gavin?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “He  _ is _ our resident hacker.”

“Ah. Of course.” The Vagabond sank back in the couch, his eyes faraway.

“He’s probably in his room now. Geoff had him working on some new surveillance for the streets around the tower. I say he’s paranoid, but if it makes him feel better about Edgar then…” Jack shrugged and got up. He gathered his paperwork and headed to his room.

The Vagabond continued to sit on the couch. He bit his lip. Gavin. He’d been reluctant to talk to the young hacker for a while. Gavin had avoided him ever since he’d become human and The Vagabond had tried to give him space to adjust to the supernatural changes. He couldn’t help but be fixated on the lad when he was in the room though and it seened that Gavin was not adjusting at all. He was still as awkward as ever, slipping out of the room as soon as he could. The Vagabond just wished he knew why; he missed Gavin. He missed their conversations, as one sided as they had been. They’d had a huge impact on him being able to remember himself. A part of him ached for the lad’s company again. The Vagabond sighed and stood up. Better now than never, he reasoned.

He headed down the hall and knocked on Gavin’s door. There was a muffled “Come in!”

The Vagabond pushed open the door. Gavin was sat at his battle station as usual, flicking through different CCT feeds and checking them against a long list. He turned and gave a little start when he saw The Vagabond.

“Oh Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” replied The Vagabond. He lingered in the doorway. “Are you busy?”

Gavin gave a vague shrug. “Not really. I mean, sort of.”

“Would you be able to do me a favour? You can say no if you’re too busy,” said The Vagabond.

Gavin bit his lip. “What sort of favour?”

“I was wondering if there was any way you’d be able to find my bank accounts for me?”

“You’ve lost them?”

“Basically… I don’t even remember what banks they were with.” The Vagabond gave the young man an apologetic smile.

“Well, that will make it a little complicated. Do you have anything for me to go off?”

“Will these help?” The Vagabond pulled out the couple of passports he and Jeremy had found and handed them to Gavin. “It’s possible the accounts are under one of those names. Or several. And I do have an apartment registered to James King.”

“James King? Is that your real name?” Gavin asked, taking the passports and turning back to his computer. This made The Vagabond pause.

“I… No. Well, not completely. James is real, but my last name…” The Vagabond trailed off.

Gavin’s fingers hesitated over the keyboard. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. I know people want to keep anonymity in this line of work sometimes. Hell, Free isn’t my real name. I picked it when I moved here.”

The Vagabond waved a hand. “No, it’s not that. I just remembered… I haven’t spoken with my family in over twelve years. I… I didn’t even think to try to contact them after I became human again.”

“Oh,” said Gavin. He went back to work searching for the aliases. After a few minutes, The Vagabond spoke again. “It’s Haywood. James Haywood.”

“Right,” said Gavin, glancing at him. 

The Vagabond leant against the doorway. The only sound in the room was Gavin’s fingers on the keyboard.

“You can still call me Ryan if you want to though,” said The Vagabond.

Gavin’s fingers froze again. He clenched them and shook his head.

“Nah. Don’t worry. That was just me being silly. I thought I was naming a pet.”

The Vagabond picked at the door frame with a fingernail. “Right.”

More silence.

“Hey, I wanted to ask-”

“Found them!” said Gavin, and he pointed at his computer screen. The Vagabond raised his eyebrows and walked over to look. The names looked right. The account numbers clicked into place in his head. The only things that didn’t look right were the balances.

“You sure this is them?” the Vagabond asked in awe.

“Pretty sure,” said Gavin. He was grinning. “I didn't know a mercenary got paid so much.”

“I… I don’t remember having  _ that  _ much money…”

Gavin tapped a few keys and they scrolled back through the history of the accounts. Apparently exponential interest had been extremely kind over the twelve years of the money sitting untouched.

Gavin sent all the details to the laser printer set up beside the banks of monitors. He grabbed them and tapped the pages to neaten them as The Vagabond continued to stare at the totals on the screen.

“I, uh, got you some copies of the details so you can access them,” he said and held the sheaf out to the man. The Vagabond shook his head and straightened up. He reached for the papers. Gavin flinched as their hands brushed, nearly sending the pages cascading to the ground. The Vagabond caught them awkwardly.

“Thanks,” he said.

Gavin fiddled with the hem of his blue button down.

“If that’s all, I have to, uh, go do this thing.”

The Vagabond couldn’t even get a word out before Gavin had left the room.

 

Gavin knew he was being an idiot about not talking to The Vagabond after he had become human. It had just become all muddled in his head. He just didn’t know how to respond to the fact that his pet had suddenly become a sentient human being. To see those blue eyes he’d known so well staring out of a human face instead… Gavin shook his head and took a gulp from the bottle in his hands. He’d raided Geoff’s liquor library in order to fortify himself a little. Fortify was a dumb word for it, he thought to himself. There was nothing fortifying about alcohol. It should really be the opposite. Weaken was more appropriate. It weakened the legs. It weakened the stomach. It weakened the senses. Gavin giggled as he wandered through the penthouse. It was nearing three am. The other crew members were in bed. Gavin paused outside The Vagabond’s door. He should really apologise for acting so weird today, he thought to himself. He just… any time he was in the room with the man, he couldn’t help but be all flighty and nervous. He rapped on the door. Alcohol also  _ definitely  _ weakened inhibitions.

There was no response from in the room. Gavin knocked again. Still nothing. He frowned clumsily. Odd. The Vagabond was an unusually light sleeper. They weren’t sure if it was on account of the regular nightmares they all knew he had, or if he had any pre-existing insomnia. Gavin wandered back to his room to try and find the Vagabond on his security cameras.

With dull fingers, he checked through the building. He found no trace of the masked man. He frowned and checked the garages. None of the cars were out. Had The Vagabond gone for a walk? Gavin used the new surveillance system Geoff had insisted on setting up that day to check the surrounding streets. The dark lanes were empty - but there. Leaning against a wall a block over was a tall, muscular figure in a coat with a hood. Gavin was sure it was The Vagabond. He frowned even further as a sleek, dark car pulled up. From the driver’s side sprang a tiny woman. The cameras were new and top of the range, and so caught the brilliant purple of her hair well. She threw herself at The Vagabond, and in turn, he swept her up into a huge bear hug. When he finally put her down, they spoke for a few minutes before she grabbed his hand and dragged him into the car.

Gavin switched the cameras off and put his bottle down.

 

The Vagabond was gone a lot over the next few days. The rest of the crew didn’t really notice, but Gavin bit his lip every time he saw the man slip out. He watched him take the new X80 he’d bought (he’d fallen in love with Geoff’s in the few minutes he’d been able to drive it before somehow it had been wrapped around a police cruiser) and disappeared out of the city. A few more times, he met with the woman on that same street corner. One of these times, Gavin followed The Vagabond.

Gavin waited on the next street over. He had his phone out and connected remotely to the tower’s security system so he could see when the car would arrive. He hailed a cab as the sleek car pulled up to the kerb. The Vagabond strolled over as the window rolled down. Gavin glimpsed purple hair. The Vagabond got in the passenger seat and the car took off. Gavin directed his cabbie to follow it. The black car took a leisurely path through the city. Gavin could tell that his cab-driver was annoyed that he had no particular destination in mind, but the lad didn’t care.

The black car pulled up outside a classy restaurant around dusk. Gavin let the cab take him up the street a ways before declaring that he wanted to get out. He threw a wad of money at the driver and stepped out onto the pavement. He headed back down the street, head down, hoodie up. He lingered near the doors of the art gallery that stood beside the restaurant, pretending to examine the posters showing what was in the exhibit. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw The Vagabond open the car door and help the purple-haired woman out. What a gentleman. They laughed as they went inside. Gavin turned away sharply. He crossed to the other side of the street among a crowd of late commuters and found somewhere to hunker down. He ignored the funny looks he got, sitting with his back up against the sun-warmed stone. He took out his phone and pretended to text. The Vagabond and the woman did him the courtesy of getting windowside seats, and there they stayed for a solid five hours or so. They polished off several courses, and a whole bottle of wine. Well, the woman drank, The Vagabond kept to soda. Gavin’s skinny ass was completely dead by the time the waiter finally brought the bill. They were still smiling and laughing as they got back in the black car and took off. Gavin caught another cab, and followed them again. Gavin’s intestines twisted themselves into intricate knots as he followed The Vagabond and the Purple Woman, as he’d dubbed her. He didn’t know what he would do when they arrived wherever they were going. Would he stay and… what was he even doing? Spying? Reconnaissance? Going fucking insane? He rubbed his face and sank down in his seat.

His question didn’t need answering though. The black car returned to the exact same spot where The Vagabond ad been picked up. Gavin let the cab drive past them as they continued to chat through the driver’s window. Gavin got the taxi to drop him outside the Fakes’ tower. He sighed when he reached the glass doors of the lobby. He let his hand fall from the handle and rested his head against the cool glass instead. Half of his brain was telling him to stop this ridiculous behaviour. The other half was telling him how easy it would be to track where the Vagabond was going with a remote locator device, or perhaps he could even just follow him with his camera drone…

“Gavin?”

The lad jumped and whirled around. The Vagabond stood with one foot on the top step and an eyebrow raised.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Oh! Yep. I’m great. Tippy toppers. Dandy,” babbled Gavin.

This only caused The Vagabond’s other eyebrow to ascend towards his jet black hair.

“I… have a thing…” Gavin mumbled. He turned around and wrenched open the glass doors. His cheeks burned red as he ran for the elevator. A mistake he realised when The Vagabond also walked into the lobby and headed for the elevators. Gavin swore under his breath and darted away. He managed to stop himself from running through the marble corridor when The Vagabond called his name again but it was a close thing.


	14. The Madness of Rorschach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> The Vagabond confronts Gavin and the crew come face to face with Edgar again.

Gavin couldn’t help himself. He kept following The Vagabond and the Purple Woman. Geoff had warned the entire crew that they should stay in the penthouse, but whenever The Vagabond snuck out, Gavin was always close behind. The battle to find out more about why The Vagabond was associating with this woman and his desire to stop this ridiculous behaviour warred within him constantly as he tailed them throughout the city. He barely got any sleep. Whenever Jack or one of the others asked, he blamed the red eyes and tiredness on all the work Geoff was having him do. It wasn’t too much of a stretch. The whole crew was run ragged trying to deal with Edgar. The man had become erratic to say the least. Edgar had been hitting them hard every week. Then nearly every other day. Each clash resulted in heavy casualties on both sides.

 

“It’s so unlike him…” Geoff said. He stood over the heist table, fists down on the surface, staring at the maps and figures strewn all over it. Jack rubbed his shoulder soothingly.

“It’s like we’re fighting someone completely different. Edgar was never this reckless. You could always count on him to be resourceful and careful and…” Geoff gestured to the paperwork. “This is just sloppy.”

“Perhaps he’s trying to trick us again somehow? Is he making himself look weak to lure us in, and then he’ll spring a new trap?” asked Jack.

“That would make sense… but it’s still too sloppy for that. If you wanted to look weak, you’d show only a couple of slip ups. Make an illusion of chinks in the armour. Make it believable. This is all over the place.”

“Will our plan still work then?” asked Jack.

“I… I think so,” said Geoff.

“Then stop stressing so much,” Jack said with a smile. “Those lines on your forehead will become permanent with the amount of worrying you do.”

“Are they not already?” Geoff muttered.

Jack chuckled and kissed him on the top of his head.

“And anyway. It’s my job to worry about you idiots,” Geoff added.

“I worry about them too,” said Jack. “Specifically The Vagabond and Gavin right now.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how prickly they are around each other. I don’t know what made it happen, but the two were inseparable before The Vagabond became human again. Now it’s like they can’t stand to be in the same room together,” Jack said.

Geoff rubbed his chin. “Hm. Now that you mention it…”

“I hope they can resolve it. I would hate for that sort of tension to exist between members of the main crew. It could cause all sorts of problems.”

“What do you think happened?” asked Geoff.

“Do you think Gavin is intimidated? He is the Mad Mercenary after all. His reputation is… unsettling to say the least.”

“That could be it,” Geoff said with a shrug. Then he sniggered. “Still not over that though.”

“Over what?”

“We fucking adopted a dog that turned out to be the most feared merc in the country. How fucking bizarre was that?” Geoff said, walking to the window and gesturing.

“And of course he forgets the part where he bitched and whined about the whole thing…” said Jack in an undertone, covering his eyes.

“And I guess it was also fucking cool that we finally got to see his face. All that research we did back then and we never once got even a  _ pixel _ of what was under his mask. Who knew he would be so hot?” Geoff said.

Jack made an amused noise. Geoff spun back around, his cheeks red.

“I - uh… I mean… I think you’re hot too…” he mumbled.

Jack chuckled and moved forwards to wrap his arms around Geoff. The tattooed man sighed and melted into Jack.

“He does have a rugged quality to him,” Jack said.

Geoff sniggered. “It raises an interesting question though…”

“Oh?”

“If you were dating The Vagabond, would it be considered a form of bestiality?” Geoff said, looking thoughtful. Jack burst out laughing. Geoff joined him.

“But seriously though! That remake of the fucking Disney movie they put out just recently - Beauty and the Beast, that was it. It got me all thinking about, like what if the Beast never turned back into a human? Not to mention that he’s kind of hotter as the Beast than as the pasty white dude he turns into…”

Jack’s eyes were still crinkled in a smile as he looked down at Geoff.

“Have a thing for big, solid, hairy guys, do you?” he asked.

Geoff looked Jack up and down and then hit him playfully. “Shut up.”

 

He was always so careful when he followed The Vagabond. The man was rusty, sure, but The Vagabond was arguably the best mercenary in the country. If Gavin didn’t have so much experience in this area, he would have been caught a long time ago. As it was, it made following The Vagabond and his lady friend so much easier. He should have known he would slip up at some point though.

He panicked when the Purple Woman turned off the car and got out. She hooked her arm through The Vagabond’s and the two strolled away down the street. Gavin, who was already in a cab, idling a street over scrambled out after hastily throwing some money at the driver for his troubles. Gavin headed down the street after the pair. On his phone, he navigated between the cameras set up in this area to keep track of the two. They walked towards the city for a few blocks, just chatting and looking quite content. Gavin’s shoulders relaxed. They were just going for a walk this time. It would be easy enough to follow them on foot.

_ Go home. Stop this nonsense. _ As usual, Gavin ignored the logical part of his brain. He walked, head down, eyes on his phone, flicking from one camera angle to the next. Gavin froze. The Vagabond and the Purple Woman had vanished. He scrubbed back through the list of cameras, searching for the pair. Nothing. They’d completely vanished into thin air.

“Bloody penises…” Gavin muttered.

He stared walking again. He picked up his pace heading towards the spot where he’d last seen the two. The road was deserted. Streetlamps splashed pools of buzzing yellow light along the dirty tar. Gavin hunched his shoulders. His Converse seemed too loud against the pavement in the night. He reached the spot where he’d last seen his quarry. He glanced around. Where could they have gone? He was peering up at the buildings to either side of him when there was a dark flash in his peripheral. Gavin screamed as a heavy weight knocked him onto his front. He scrabbled, trying to flip over, but the person had followed him down, their bulk crushing him against the concrete. There was a hot breath at his neck and something sharp dug into his spine. Gavin’s fingers fled towards his phone and the gun in his waistband. He gasped as both hands were also caught and pinned to the pavement.

“Uh-uh,” came the cold voice of The Vagabond. Gavin froze. A strange low growling was coming from the person sitting on his back. The Vagabond wrenched both the phone and the gun from Gavin’s hands. Gavin hissed and drew them back towards his body. His mind was going a million miles an hour. What was The Vagabond going to think? What was he supposed to say now? Gavin screwed his eyes shut.

“Wait. This is Gavin’s phone.”

Gavin heard heavy boots move around. There was the creaking of leather as the Vagabond knelt down. He pulled the hood of Gavin’s jacket off his head.

“Gavin? You’re the one who’s been following me?”

Gavin said nothing.

“Gavin? What’s going on? Answer me,” The Vagabond said.

Gavin kept his mouth shut.

“Meg! You might be crushing him. You can get off,” said The Vagabond. The sharpness against his neck and the weight on Gavin’s back vanished. He coughed in a breath and sat up slowly. He looked up. The Vagabond was staring at him, a confused expression on his face. Slinking around the man’s legs was the biggest cat Gavin had ever seen. It was more like a small panther. It’s fur was so black that it gleamed purple. It brown eyes were narrowed suspiciously at him.

“Gavin. What is going on? Why are you following me?” The Vagabond asked, more sternly this time.

Gavin got to his feet.

“I - I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve… I’ll go now.” Gavin turned around and sprinted away.

“Gavin!” The Vagabond’s voice echoed in the empty street. “Gavin! Wait!”

Gavin poured on the speed. He was back to the Fakes’ tower before he knew it. He punched in the code and ripped the door open.

 

He got out of the elevator and stood in the hallway, breathing hard. He was cursing internally. He just had to go and be his usual idiot self. He’d probably ruined things with The Vagabond forever. He was such a moron! Gavin kicked the wall. He swore under his breath when it made his toes throb inside his shoes. He turned towards the penthouse. He just wanted to curl up his bed now and hide from the world. As he approached the door however, the elevator dinged behind him.

“Gavin.”

The lad froze. The Vagabond’s voice was calm. Not a soothing calm. More the sort of calm reserved for when one is cold and resting in their grave. Gavin turned. Burning blue eyes caught his and rooted him to the spot.

“Why were you following me?”

Gavin’s chin trembled. The Vagabond’s eyes narrowed.

“Why. Were. You. Following. Me.”

Each word was punctuated with a step forward.

“I… I didn’t mean to…” Gavin said in a tiny voice.

The Vagabond stopped. He tilted his head slowly. Gavin swallowed.

“Do you not trust me?”

Gavin couldn’t reply.

“Is it Geoff that doesn’t trust me then?”

Gavin was trembling as he shook his head.

“ _ What is it then? _ ” The Vagabond’s roar reverberated in the marble hallway, making Gavin flinch. “At first I put it down to you being freaked out by my abilities, but even after I’d explained all of that, still you couldn’t stand being in the same room as me! Well, you can’t run away now! Why do you hate me?  _ Answer me! _ ”

Gavin stammered unintelligible noises. The Vagabond threw up his hands and paced away. He turned around and stormed back.

“You think I’m not trustworthy! That has to be it! I knew someone had been following me, but I didn’t know for how long. That woman you saw - her name is Meg. She’s a shifter like me. She’s my  _ sister _ . We haven’t seen each other in twelve years!”

The Vagabond was breathing heavily. He stared at Gavin who continued to splutter and squawk uselessly, shaking his head.

“You follow me, but then as soon as I’m in the room, you avoid me… Why have you been avoiding me, Gavin?” The calm voice was back.

Gavin shut up. He tried to look anywhere but at The Vagabond.

“It  _ is _ because of my powers, isn’t it? You stopped talking to me completely after I’d changed. Is that it? Do you want me to leave? Do I make you uncomfortable? Am I  _ unnatural? _ ”

Gavin backed up. He felt the penthouse door behind him. The Vagabond continued to stalk towards him.

“Well, you needn’t worry anymore. It seems that I am unable to change back. The other reason I needed to talk to Meg. My powers are gone. I’m just a normal, boring human like you,” he hissed, grabbing the front of Gavin’s shirt. Gavin stared up at the man, eyes wild, cheeks flushed red. His hands fumbled at the door and he fell through it as it gave way under his touch. Gavin landed in something wet.

“Wot-” he spluttered.

The Vagabond’s gaze shifted from Gavin to the room. The penthouse was dark. His nostrils flared.

“Why’s there a puddle of water in the hall?” Gavin asked shakily.

“It’s not water…” muttered The Vagabond. He tried the switch on the wall, but the lights did not respond. The Vagabond pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight. Gavin shrieked and leapt to his feet. The floor was covered in blood. The Vagabond stared at the crimson stains. Here, they could clearly see heavy boot prints and a place where someone had been dragged through the blood. Handprints showed that they had scrabbled to find purchase on something - anything to get away.

“He took them.” Gavin’s green eyes were huge as he looked up at The Vagabond. He could still feel the tension from their altercation from the hall radiating off the man, but this was infinitely more pressing.

“He took them while we were gone. I wasn’t… I wasn’t watching the cameras… they were here…” Gavin clutched his arms.

“We have to go after them,” The Vagabond said. The chilled calm of his voice was betrayed by the fury in his eyes.

“I know where Edgar will be taking them,” Gavin said. He pulled out his phone.

The Vagabond blinked in confusion. He swallowed down his anger and turned to Gavin.

“And how exactly do you know that?”

“Trackers.”

“What? In their phones? Edgar would have taken those the moment he had his hands on the crew.”

“No, of course not. Microchip trackers,” said Gavin. He glanced nervously at The Vagabond.

“Microchips…?” the man asked, an eyebrow raised.

Gavin gave him a nervous smile. “Yes. Like for a dog.”

“Good to see that the irony is not lost on you,” said The Vagabond.

 

The hood on Jack’s head was pleasant smelling. Well, compared to hoods he’d been forced to wear in the past. Michael was swearing up a storm, the lad’s own hood not doing much to muffle the sound. Jack twisted his hands but they’d been secured to the chair he’d been shoved onto. The heavy footsteps of his captors faded away.

“Achievement Hunters, sound off,” said Geoff in a low voice. He sounded close. They must have put him in a chair on Jack’s left.

“I’m good,” said Jack.

“Yo,” said Jeremy on Jack’s right.

“I’m here, and I’m sore. They punched me for mouthing off, but then gave up when I didn’t shut up,” said Michael, and Jack could hear the grin in his voice. He was beside Jeremy.

“Where the fuck are Gavin and The Vagabond then?” asked Geoff.

“It seems we may have to start without them.”

“Edgar…” muttered Geoff.

“You motherfucker! Let us go! Let me out of these handcuffs or I swear to God, alcohol and videogames that I am going to rip your nutsack off and make you wear it like a beanie!” roared Michael.

Edgar just laughed.

“Michael,” barked Geoff.

The Jersey lad had been about to go on another tirade, but quieted. Geoff could still hear him breathing heavily. The silence stretched out.

Edgar broke it with an amused noise.

“Impressive, Geoffrey. I would have expected you to start begging again.”

Geoff stilled as he heard footsteps draw near. He felt Edgar lean closer.

“Does it not concern you Ramsey?” he whispered.

Geoff stayed silent. 

“Does it not trouble you, that again, I have you and your crew at my mercy?”

The tattooed man said nothing.

Edgar huffed and turned away. He paced in front of them.

“Nothing to say? None of you?”

Geoff heard boots stomp towards Michael.

“Not even you? Such a fiery temper. And you just shut down at his bidding?” Geoff could hear the sneer in Edgar’s voice. Michael said nothing, even as Edgar sank a fist into his stomach. The red haired lad’s breathing was shallow and pained for a moment, but then returned to normal. Edgar snorted and walked away. The pacing continued.

“You think you can psyche me out? Get into my head with the silent treatment. An interesting tactic, Ramsey. But you know what? This will be interesting. Let’s see how long it takes for me to make one of you scream. How long will it take me to make one of you beg? Oh-ho, this is a fun little game…”

Geoff tensed his shoulders.

“Ooh! I wonder who might crack first? Who’s going to break down crying before the others?”

Edgar walked to the end of their line. He ripped off Michael's hood. The young man shot him a blazing glare.

“Michael Jones. I’d bet good money that you’ll start swearing again before we even got to the best part. I wonder how many bad, bad words we could get you to say when I pull your fingernails out with hot pliers?”

Edgar strolled away.

“Will it be young mister Dooley? Marksman extraordinaire, and excellent all round hitman? What will happen if I saw off your precious trigger fingers?” He pulled off Jeremy’s hood. The blue-haired lad didn’t look at Edgar. He just stared straight ahead. Edgar sneered and strode towards Jack. The bag caught on Jack’s ear, ripping the skin as it was pulled off.

“Perhaps mister Pattillo? You and Geoff have been in leagues together for a long time. Do you suppose he’ll cry when I slit your throat a millimeter at a time? Will he beg me to stop? Or will he ask me to end your suffering faster?”

Jack stared impassively at Edgar. The rubber cow mask wobbled as Edgar turned sharply and headed for Geoff.

“I admit that it was not as entertaining as I thought to just watch you all burn alive. I am going to have a lot more…  _ fun _ … this time around,” he hissed as he whipped Geoff’s hood off. Geoff watched Edgar, his blue eyes narrowed and his lips pressed thin.

“Now. To start off, I will be needing a little, ah, recompense.” Edgar reached up and removed his mask. There was a sharp intake of breath from the four. Michael couldn’t help but mouth  _ Holy fuck _ .

The side of Edgar’s once normal, rather average face was now twisted and seared an ugly red. His hair had been shorn off and there were patches of burns along his scalp. One lip was lifted in a permanent sneer. Along the man’s jaw there was a strange black and white pattern. Jack swallowed, feeling ill. Part of Edgar’s cow mask had been melted to his skin.

Edgar laughed.

“I know, I know - I had some work done. I look rather dashing, don’t you think?” he said, gesturing to his face. Edgar’s eyes were overly bright. Jeremy shifted in his seat. They all tried not to stare at Edgar’s ruined face. This forced them to take in their surroundings. These were not pleasant either. The lighting was weak and rancid, but it appeared they were in an old abbatoir. Dozens of ancient, congealed meat hooks hung from the ceiling. Crates and conveyor belts and other unnameable machines littered the enormous room. The four Fakes were tied to chairs in the centre, near a large grate. Dark stains surrounded the drain.

“Why the dour expressions? By the time we’re finished here, you lot will look prettier than I do. Smile!”  The man grinned. It was horrifying.

Jack knew Geoff was thinking the same thing as he was. Edgar had not been acting normal lately - the sloppy, disorganised attacks, the constant battering of forces...

“Somebody bring me a toolkit!” Edgar bellowed. The sound echoed through the decrepit abattoir. Edgar began to pace in front of them again.

“You are going to regret you heard my name. You’re going to regret that you ever thought you could best me in this game. You’re going to regret the moment you decided to step foot in this filthy city…” Edgar’s fists clenched as he paced back and forwards in front of them. They all watched him with wary eyes. This was not the calm, ruthless businessman of a crime-lord they’d previously encountered.

“I’m going to carve the word into your  _ spine! _ ” Edgar shouted, rounding on Geoff.

Edgar had gone insane.

They all stayed quiet. No one wanted to provoke the man, now that they knew he was off the deep end. He continued to pace, glaring into each of their faces. After a few minutes, he whirled around.

“Where the fuck is the toolbox? If I have to get one myself, I am going to hang each and everyone of you from these hooks and flay you alive!” he yelled. His voice echoed again.

There was a faint sound from across the room. The door swung open.

“Finally,” growled Edgar.

Gavin and the Vagabond walked in. Their expressions were calm. Edgar stopped. The pair advanced slowly. There were soft chinking sounds behind Edgar. He spun to see the other four Fakes getting up from their chairs. Geoff and Jack were rubbing their wrists. Michael was cracking his knuckles. Jeremy was grinning and spinning his handcuffs around a finger. Edgar looked from one to the other. Geoff stretched as he stood up and gestured with a hand. All around the rank warehouse there was a grinding sound. The meagre light that filtered through dirty windows vanished as shutters pulled over them. The room fell silent as the doors locked with sinister clicks. Edgar stared at Geoff.

“Decided to take a page out of your book. I knew you’d be looking for more hidey holes, so a few properties I knew of suddenly became… available. It was a bitch to have them all installed with heavy duty, but practically invisible security measures, but worth it. You should feel flattered,” he said.

Edgar looked furious. His hands flew to his belt, then to his coat pocket and down to his leg.

“I wouldn’t bother. You were disarmed long before you came into this room. You should really be more careful who you hire. There’s a new fellow in your employ by the name of Larry. He’s a shifty one, that one. Sticky fingers you see.”

Edgar gritted his teeth. The Fakes gathered in a loose circle around Edgar. They were all grinning now.

“Glad you could join us, boi,” said Michael, punching Gavin lightly on the shoulder.

“Wouldn’t miss this for the world. Shame we weren’t there when you all got ‘napped - we would have been able to start the fun earlier,” said Gavin.

Jeremy rotated his shoulders and rolled his neck, grinning evilly at Edgar.

“So who gets to go first?” he asked.

“I say we let The Vagabond have first honours. He has been waiting for a while,” said Jack.

Edgar spun again, facing the man as he stepped further into the light. The gleaming black skull mask made his expression hard to read, but The Vagabond’s blue eyes were cold.

“Much appreciated…” he purred.

Then Edgar smiled. He grinned wide, his ruined face contorting. He began to laugh. He threw his head back and roared with mirth. The Fakes stilled and glanced at each other. The high, hysterical laughter bounced around the room. Edgar straightened and closed his mouth with a snap. He was still grinning.

“I was going to save this for the finale, but as I see I have no other option…” Edgar closed his eyes, the manic smile still on his face. After a moment his grimaced. The other six jumped at the strange cracking sound. Edgar hunched. His ugly face grew even more contorted as he grunted in pain.

“Whoa. Dude. What the fuck is happening?” Michael was beginning to back away.

Was Edgar getting taller? The man hissed out a chuckle as he panted. His fists clenched and unclenched. His whole body flexed. His clothes looked too tight. The Vagabond’s eyes grew wide.

“It’s nice to see you again cousin,” Edgar grunted, looking up at the man. He gasped again and pitched forwards in pain, going onto his hands and knees. His spine undulated unnaturally. The cracking and popping sounds were grisly. The Fakes were backing away rapidly now. Edgar’s sleeves ripped.

“He can’t…” The Vagabond was muttering under his breath.

Edgar laughed at his words. It was a chilling sound, interspersed with grunts and bellows of pain. Edgar gritted his teeth.

“I hate to be cliche, but it seems that it’s not me who’s locked in here with you…” he ground out, staring daggers at the masked man. Edgar roared, the transformation racing over his body. He grew, and grew again. Clothing was shredded. The man’s face elongated. Toes and feet condensed into hard, sharp shapes. Shaggy, mottled black and white fur rushed forth. Enormous, wicked horns sprouted from the man’s head. Geoff was gripping Jack in horror. The lads goggled, mouths hanging open. Edgar had transformed into an enormous bull. But something was off. The creature that was Edgar shuddered one final time and the stood up on its hind legs.

The Vagabond had looked like a real wolf when he’d been transformed, albeit a big one. Edgar looked like a bull, but  _ wrong _ . He stood nearly three metres tall on his back legs. His fur was too shaggy, forming a huge mane around his neck. His tufted tail lashed. The two cloven hooves planted on the ground were enormous, but his front legs bore enormous paws tipped with razor claws. The snout opened to reveal a mouthful of fangs.

The man laughed again. It was a deep, guttural sound. Edgar had turned into a minotaur.


	15. Labyrinthine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> The crew is trapped and Edgar is on the hunt...

The six men stared up at the minotaur, frozen in place. Edgar blinked beady black eyes and rolled his enormous shoulders.

“ **You all act like you’ve never seen a man shift before** ,” Edgar boomed. His voice was thick and strange, but clearly he spoke. This shocked the others into movement.

“ _ Run! _ ” bellowed Geoff.

The crew scattered. Edgar laughed again as he swiped an enormous paw at Michael who darted to the side and disappeared amidst a pile of boxes.

“ **Yes. Run. Run and hide. I will hunt you down. The chase will be all the more fun…** ”

Edgar stomped after Michael. His huge weight made the ground shudder with each footfall. Edgar batted away solid wooden crates as if they were cardboard. Michel slipped in between some girders and disappeared. Edgar snorted as he bumped into a machine, not yet used to his enormous bulk. He sized up the metal contraption that appeared to be some kind of cling film wrapping device. He set his hands on the side of it and with a great grunt and a roar, he shoved the machine over. He breathed hard, staring at the toppled machine in triumph.

“ **And I see now why shifters consider themselves so far above humans. This power… this strength… They are nothing compared. And yet, an average shifter is nothing compared to me...** ”

Edgar stomped past the machine. He pushed past the hanging meat hooks, eyes trained on the floor, searching for his prey.

Jack, Jeremy and The Vagabond all held their breath as the huge, cloven hooves passed by them. They were crouched under a rickety old conveyor belt. Jeremy and Jack looked pale with fear. The Vagabond’s blue eyes were still wide with shock.

“What in heavenly fuck just happened?” hissed Jeremy, looking at the masked man.

“I thought you said Edgar couldn’t shift!” whispered Jack.

The Vagabond shook his head.

“He can’t… he couldn’t… He’s not  shifter. That is not like anything I’ve ever seen before. Shifters turn into animals - not hybrid creatures like that. They cannot speak. I do not know what that monster is...”

“ **I bet you’re wondering just how I’ve achieved this miracle, cousin,** ” Edgar said, as if he’d heard them. The three tensed, but the enormous creature was still moving away from them.

“ **You almost found out twelve years ago. You see, I was done with you and your kind just dismissing me. I was nothing in their eyes without shifter powers. So I decided to change that.** ”

Jack and Jeremy flinched instinctively as the beast-man turned and stomped back towards them.

“Don’t move. He hasn’t seen you. He’s still hunting,” The Vagabond whispered. The other two nodded.

“ **I needed shifters** ,” Edgar said, his voice deep and terrible. “ **I learnt a lot of interesting things from the ones I captured. Specifically** **_how_ ** **they shifted. We isolated those part of their brains and implanted them in different hosts. The resultant shifters were not perfect, but they were still powerful.** ”

The Vagabond let loose a low growl. His blue eyes flashed. Jack grabbed the collar of the man’s leather jacket.

**“What was even more interesting was what happened when two different shifters were implanted into one host. Some weren’t pretty - but others were magnificent. I began collecting the most powerful forms that I could find. What you see before you is the culmination of nearly fifteen years of work. I am more powerful than any shifter alive!** ”

“He’s trying to lure you out,” hissed the red-bearded man.

Edgar stomped closer.

“ **I wanted size, strength and ferocity. The bull was donated quite unwillingly by one Flynt Coal. He struggled beautifully, but eventually the torture got to him. The next was easy to come by. Valerie’s children were only young at the time. Jacinta had the form of a weasel - useless. But her brother’s lion complemented my vision well.** ”

The Vagabond was shaking. Jack gripped his shoulders.

“Ignore him. We have to focus on getting out of here. This was supposed to be a coup de gra - Edgar had no weapons and we brought none. It was six on one. It should have been easy. So, in case you have a fucking shotgun up your sleeves, we need to  _ go _ …”

“ **I would have added your fur and fangs to the collection, but you refused to turn back. You see, for the extractions to work, the donor has to be in human form first. So I took the next best thing. I only knew of one bear in the shifter community - these paws once belonged to your mother…** ”

The Vagabond’s body turned cold. He heard Jeremy and Jack gasp, but the noise was faint. He swallowed drily. Meg had told him that their parents had died while he’d been gone. He’d come to terms with that already. She’d taken him to see their graves. It had been hard, but he’d know that their line of work was dangerous. Now he knew that it had actually been Edgar who had taken his parents.

“ **Your father was quite the gentleman. He always had a way with words that one. Not that it helped him. Your mother though… She was a true terror. She slew so many of my men when we took them down. She only relented once we started skinning your father alive…** ”

Cruel black eyes swept over the decades-old detritus and locked onto blue ones. The minotaur grinned and charged. The Fakes scrambled to their feet and ran. Before he knew it, The Vagabond was alone amongst huge stacks of boxes and palettes. He could still hear the sounds of Edgar crashing and stomping close by, so he sprinted deeper into the maze of stacks. He felt lightheaded. This was so much to take in. Two blurs flashed past him. The rearmost one skidded to a halt. Geoff was trembling.

“Vagabond!” he hissed. “Come on! You have to come with us! He’s right-” Geoff’s eyes widened.

Edgar had spotted them. He roared and surged forwards through the stacks, heading directly for The Vagabond. The creature was so big and powerful he just shoved them out of the road while the Fakes had to find their way around. The Vagabond turned and fled the way he’d come.

His mind was reeling. This was supposed to be their moment of triumph. Geoff had planned it so carefully. Sure, there’d been a hiccup where he and Gavin hadn’t been ‘kidnapped’ along with the others, but they’d made it in time. Edgar had no weapons. The Fakes had no weapons. They hadn’t wanted him to get a hold of any and turn them on the crew. No one had even imagined  _ this _ . 

The Vagabond skidded to a halt. He gritted his teeth and hung his head. If he had been able to shift right now, he would have potentially been able to take down the monster that was Edgar. As it way they were stuck in here with nothing. The Vagabond nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt something wrap around his ankle. He wrenched his foot away and looked down to see a pair of scared green eyes staring back up at him.

“Gavin…”

There was a crash and a shudder from close by. The Vagabond dropped to the floor and squeezed his way under the machine with Gavin. The skinny lad had fit okay by himself, but The Vagabond’s broad shoulders squashed the pair uncomfortably together just before the wall of crates behind them shattered into matchsticks and Edgar stomped through. Gavin and The Vagabond watched silently as the monster passed by them. The tufted tail dragged on the ground as he walked. The Vagabond knew that this would be the perfect opportunity to emerge and launch himself onto Edgar’s back. He wanted to. Dear god, there was nothing more that he wanted to do other than to throw himself at that creature and rip him to shreds. But he had nothing. There was nothing that they could do. They were trapped in here with a mythical killing machine. He couldn’t even  _ think _ .

“Whe have to get out,” The Vagabond whispered to Gavin.

The young man stared at him with those wide eyes again.

“I - I… you… back at the p-penthouse...” Gavin stammered.

The Vagabond wanted to snarl.

“We can fight about all of that when we’re not reenacting fucking ancient Greek mythology,” he snapped as quietly as he could. The Vagabond felt Gavin’s shaking hands curl into the front of his jacket. He was suddenly aware of the way the younger man’s whole body was pressed up against his. His insides lurched. He hadn’t been this close to the lad since he’d become human again. Memories of play fighting and chasing him and even just sitting with Gavin’s arms around him flooded through the man’s head. He ached for it. For that human touch. For Gavin’s touch. He hadn’t felt a kind human hand in so long. When Gavin came along, he couldn’t help but never want to leave the lad’s side. Gavin let go of The Vagabond.  _ Of course _ , the masked man thought bitterly.  _ I disgust him _ .

“The- the shutters,” Gavin whispered.

“What about them?”

“There’s a central control tower for this whole abattoir. All the of the conveyors and muck were controlled from there. That’s where we also put the controls for the shutters. Shifty was to activate them on Geoff’s command and get the hell out. When Edgar was dead, all I had to do was go back up there and open them again. If I open them now, we can escape.”

“Then what are we doing here?”

“I was on my way!” Gavin hissed.

The Vagabond just glared at him. Gavin met his eyes but then quickly looked away, his face going red. The Vagabond snorted and looked away too.

“V-Vagabond…” Gavin began, but the man shushed him.

“Quiet. I think he’s gone for now. Let’s go,” he said.

He slid from under the machinery and crouched. He looked around warily. Gavin crawled out as well. He followed The Vagabond as the man snuck through the maze of crates and rubble. They had to pick their way over a pile of smashed crates more than once, being as quiet as possible on the loose wood and debris. Edgar sounded frustrated. He was across the huge warehouse, toppling more machinery and stomping about. The control tower was basically in the centre of the entire building. It had conveyor belts and ceiling tracks leading to and from it. There were rickety metal stairs that led up to it. Similarly rusted catwalks branched out from it above their heads. They paused to watch Edgar for a moment before cautiously climbing up the creaky old stairs. Once in the tower, Gavin groaned in dismay. The computers and equipment scattered around were so ancient that the grey plastic casings were turning yellow. They were all switched off. Gavin darted forwards and slapped the power buttons on the old towers. They remained silent. The hacker gave a low curse. The Vagabond spared him a glance before looking back out over the warehouse. Edgar was turning in their direction. The Vagabond lunged for Gavin and dragged him under the desk. They both flinched as Edgar bellowed in anger. The Vagabond peeked over the desk, but Edgar was still looking their way. He ducked back down. Gavin was examining the computer tower. He already had the side off and was poking around in its guts.

“Who ballsed this up? It looks fine! I don’t know why it won’t turn on!” Gavin was babbling under his breath. The Vagabond’s eyes travelled from the computer to the plug on the wall. He took the computer’s power cable and plugged it back in. Immediately the lights in the machine turned on. Gavin looked at the man.

“Bloody Shifty… why’d he unplug it before he legged it?” he muttered. He pressed the power button and they waited for the ancient PC to boot up.

Gavin figeted. He glanced up at The Vagabond.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

The Vagabond turned away. “You don’t have to pretend.”

“Pretend? I’m not bloody pretending nothing. I- I’m sorry for the way I acted,” Gavin stammered.

Vagabond snapped around to the younger man. “Oh, don’t give me that. The way you are around me - you can stop pretending that you hate shifters. I don’t care anymore. You can think us unnatural, or creepy, or whatever the fuck - I don’t care anymore.” The Vagabond was stiff. A muscle clenched in his jaw.

“I don’t hate you…” Gavin whispered.

The Vagabond ignored him.

“I - I don’t…” Gavin bit his lip. “I don’t know how to explain… Do - do you remember that time I followed those two guys? When I ended up in the park, just watching them? Basically being a jealous stalker ex?”

The Vagabond remained still. Gavin heaved a huge sigh.

“You were there. You saw how I was. I’m an idiot. I don’t know how to act around people that… that I… That’s why I was following you and... Well, I didn’t know she was your sister.”

Gavin fell silent. He huddled into himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face against them. Vagabond was still frozen. His mind however was suddenly whirring.

“You were following me because you were jealous?” The Vagabond asked in a quiet voice.

Gavin nodded against his knees. The Vagabond frowned under his mask and stared at the lad.

“You don’t hate that I’m a shifter then?”

Gavin shook his head.

“Then why haven’t you said anything?”

“I didn’t know  _ what _ to say!” Gavin exploded. His face was bright red as he lifted it from his knees. “I’m absolutely awful with people - I told you that once, back when you were just a dog to me. I told you that! I told you so many things that I never tell anyone! And then suddenly you were human! You were human and the way you looked at me... You were my pet - my closest friend and then suddenly you were so bloody  _ hot _ and I just didn’t know what to feel! I - I…” Gavin broke off. He looked up into The Vagabond’s bright blue eyes and his breath left him. He was suddenly aware of how close they were again. He could feel the warmth radiating off The Vagabond’s long, muscled frame.

The Vagabond's insides were doing strange things to him. That ache he’d felt whenever he remembered how distant Gavin was acting was gone. Instead it was replaced by an odd, hot sensation. Gavin didn’t hate him. Quite the opposite in fact. His mind reeled.

“I don’t hate that you’re a shifter. I think it’s bloody cool actually,” Gavin mumbled.

The Vagabond smiled.

“Thanks… Thank you Gab- Gavin,” he said.

Gavin giggled. “Still getting used to that tongue, hey?”

The Vagabond gave him a gentle shove. “I apologise for going off at you.”

“You’d no reason to think otherwise. Totally my own fault. As I said before, absolutely useless with people,” Gavin said, indicating himself.

They trailed off into silence. Gavin fidgeted again. The Vagabond glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. The hot feeling in his abdomen was suddenly electrified. He wanted to reach for the lad’s slender, twitching  fingers. An earsplitting screech made them both jump.

“What in the tossing hell was that?” Gavin asked.

They peeked over the desk. Around them, parts of the abattoir were struggling to grind to life. Gavin spun to the computer that had finally booted up.

“Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

“What? What’s going on?”

“The stupid control system for the machinery starts automatically when these PCs are turned on! All the ones that still work are coming online! Edgar’s gonna know where we are!”

“Well shut them off!”

“I am! I am!”

The Vagabond turned to search for Edgar. His stomach dropped as he locked eyes with the beast. Edgar lowered his huge head and charged.

“Gavin! We need to go now!” The Vagabond yelled, grabbing the hacker’s arm.

“But the shutters-”

Gavin’s words were cut off by a thundering crash. The two of them were thrown across the room and slammed into desks. The floor tilted alarmingly under them. The electronics had flown across the room with them and were sparking and carrying on. Gavin hissed. One of the CRT monitors had shattered, glass slicing into his face. His fingers came away bloodied. The pair cried out as the tower shuddered again. Edgar laughed as he attacked the base of the building.

“Quick! Get onto the catwalks!” yelled The Vagabond. He hauled himself up and dragged Gavin to the door of the control room.

“But the shutters - how are we gonna get out?”

“We can’t get them open if we’re dead!” The Vagabond grabbed Gavin and threw him bodily onto one of the twisting, protesting walkways as Edgar further collapsed the control tower around them. The metal grating screamed and snapped, but not before The Vagabond had scrambled up too. The tower fell, crumpling like a lego house under Edgar’s onslaught.

“Quickly,” The Vagabond said, pointing along the catwalk. “Before he realises we’re not in there anymore.”

Gavin nodded shakily and scampered along the metal walkway, The Vagabond hot on his heels. There was some kind of ventilation ducting up in the low ceiling which gave them cover. Edgar screamed and cursed when he realised that they had escaped him.

Gavin and The Vagabond crouched and panted in the gloom behind the piping. 

“Well, shit,” said the older man in a low tone.

Gavin had his head in his hands. “How do we get out now?” he whispered, a hysterical edge to his voice. The Vagabond did not reply. His blue eyes were dark under the mask. Gavin grabbed the front of the man’s jacket.

“What are we going to do? The control tower is gone! There’s no way for us to get out. Edgar is going to find us and he’s going to kill us stone bloody dead. We’re dead! Geoff and Jack and the crew and you and-”

The Vagabond grabbed Gavin’s hands and pulled them from his jacket.

“Gavin!” he snapped. The lad sobbed. The Vagabond loosened his grip and slid his hands to Gavin’s shoulders.

“Gavin… Are you sure there’s no other way of escape?”

Gavin hiccuped and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Yes. Me an’ Geoff made sure of it. We didn’t want Edgar to be able to escape us this time. Paid a lot of damn money for those shutters. Best quality.”

“Alright then. Well, I guess this is one of the times we’ll just have to fight our way out,” The Vagabond said.

Gavin looked up at him, dismayed.

“Fight? You want us to fight that - that  _ thing?” _

The Vagabond took off his mask. There were clean streaks on his face where lines of sweat had run through the dirt and the black paint he wore around his eyes. He fixed Gavin with an intense look.

“Who is trapped in this warehouse?”

Gavin just stared at him. The Vagabond narrowed his eyes.

“Who is trapped in this warehouse?” he asked again.

“I- I don’t understand…” Gavin stammered.

“Just answer the question.”

“Me I guess. And you. Geoff and Jack and Michael and Jeremy. The crew-”

“Exactly. The crew. Which crew?”

“The - the Fake AH Crew.”

The Vagabond gave him a small smile.

“The Fake AH Crew. I remember everything from the time when I was in that garden you know. All the stories you and the guys told me. All of your crazy stunts, your biggest hauls, your most infamous heists. The Fake AH Crew did all of that and so much more. This crew runs Achievement City. You  _ own _ it.”

“Yeah, so what?” Gavin looked scared and a little annoyed now. “How’re heists gonna solve our problems here?”

“The point I’m getting at Gavin, is that if you can do all these things, then surely a single minotaur is not such a big deal.”

“But he’s huge! Just look at the size of the bastard!”

“When you were assassinating that rich prick who was muscling in on the crew’s turf, and there were those three huge bodyguards you had to go through, who was it that did it only with a barbed-wire wrapped baseball bat?” The Vagabond asked.

“That would have been Michael,” Gavin replied.

“What about the time when you were stealing evidence from AHPD, and the night-cops came back unexpectedly. Who pick-pocketed both of their tasers and took them out?”

“Lil’ J,” Gavin said. The ghost of a smile crept onto his face.

“And the time when you were all arrested and thrown in a paddy wagon. Who stole it and managed to lose the cops?”

“Jack did,” said Gavin.

“When you were negotiating an arms deal with that shady guy from Dubai? Who was the one who spotted the ambush and got out with not even a scratch?”

“One mister Geoffrey Ramsey,” said Gavin, grinning broadly now.

“And the time that the crew needed someone to go undercover with a rival gang, work his way up the ladder, and then finally gank the guy at the top?”

Gavin’s smile lost a little of its sheen. The Vagabond pressed his hand to the lad’s chest. The pulse he felt there was like the thrumming of a hummingbird’s wings.

“That was you. You are the Fakes. You are the kings of this dirty, magnificent, bloody, beautiful city. Together, you can do anything.”

“Right. Okay. Kill a minotaur. Simple. Just another one for the books then,” Gavin said. He gave the Vagabond a crooked, uncertain smile. “Any tips? Any hints about shifters’ weaknesses? Can you only be killed with silver or something?”

The Vagabond grinned too. “You’re thinking of werewolves again. No, we’re as mortal as any other person. Anything that would kill you, will kill him.”

“Well, we’re currently experiencing a severe drought in bullets and this is the only other thing I have on me.” Gavin pulled out his phone. “So unless I can bore him to death with a Youtube video… You know what, I can’t even do that. There is no bollocking service in this shitting building.”

“I don’t have any weapons either…” The Vagabond said in a low voice. He’d hated removing all of his new knives, but the logic had been sound. If they had no weapons for Edgar to take off them, he couldn’t use them against him. None of them had foreseen their current situation. The Vagabond noticed Gavin’s pensive stare.

“What?” he asked.

“We do have a weapon actually,” Gavin said.

“Pray tell?” The Vagabond asked.

Gavin hesitated for a moment, then reached forward and poked him in the chest. “You.”

The Vagabond drew back and blinked. “Me?”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Edgar can transform - big deal. So can you! I’m surprised you haven’t already!”

The Vagabond stiffened. He looked away. Gavin frowned.

“I told you that I can’t,” said The Vagabond.

Gavin looked even more befuddled. “You wot?”

“I - I can’t shift anymore…” The Vagabond screwed his eyes shut.

“You…”

The Vagabond flinched at the hand on his shoulder.

“Why?” asked Gavin.

“I just can’t,” said The Vagabond. “I don’t know why. I told you back a the penthouse. I have been talking to Meg about it a lot. She’s never heard of it happening before. I’ve tried all sorts of things but… I just…”

The Vagabond was the one shaking now.

“Hey, it’s okay. I can understand if you’re scared of turning back,” Gavin said.

The Vagabond’s eyes snapped open.

“Who said I was scared? I’m not scared,” he snorted.

Gavin looked confused. “But you… How are you not scared? I would absolutely be. If I’d been stuck as an animal for so long and finally was human again, I’d be terrified to change back, in case I got stuck again.”

The Vagabond stared at Gavin, his eyes hard. Gavin cocked his head.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Gavin said in a soft voice. “We all are. We all were. Geoff told me during that meet with the Dubai guy that he nearly wet himself he was so scared. Jeremy often tells me how terrified he is - during whatever he’s doing. Michael and Jack need hugs all the time. I’m no different. I’m scared out of my wits most of the time. You can be scared, because you have us to help you.”

Blue eyes met Gavin’s green ones and the lad smiled again.

“If you do get stuck again, I’ll be there to pull you back out again. If anything, it’ll be even easier than the first time,” Gavin said. He felt the larger man’s tension dissipate under his hand. The Vagabond blinked.

“You would?”

“‘Course I would, you big dummy.”

A little chuckled rolled from The Vagabond’s deep chest. They grinned at each other.

“‘Sides, it’d look right odd me taking a dog on a lovely dinner date,” Gavin said. He paused and then covered his mouth, turning a violent red. “I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”

The Vagabond stared at him. Gavin’s hand was still on his shoulder and suddenly there was that sensation again. It was like lightning crackled through the connection. The electric sensation coiled in The Vagabond’s gut. Gavin snatched his hand away, but The Vagabond reached out and caught it. He held it tightly for a moment, but then slowly stroked Gavin’s long, slim fingers. Gavin twitched under his touch, his eyes going wide and his breathing stuttered.

“I - you… you don’t have to do that…” Gavin stuttered. “Just because I’m making a fool of myself you don’t have to take pity on me.”

The Vagabond continued stroking Gavin’s hand. His voice was soft and gravelly.

“It’s not pity. The others were beneficial in my recovery, but you were the one who truly brought me back. Whenever I was around you, I felt like myself again. I wanted to spend every moment possible with you. It was you who brought me back when the fire surrounded us. It was like you’d reached in and dragged me out again. And then… then I was human again, but something else was missing. I thought you needed time to adjust. But when I started to believe you hated me because of my powers… I was devastated. I got angry to cover that up. So, the rest of the crew may have helped, but it’s always been you Gavin.”

Gavin’s hand clutched at his and it felt like he’d grabbed a live wire. 

“I’m so sorry!” the lad babbled. “I didn’t mean for it to look like I didn't like you! I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d sat on my lap in Jack’s car! I wrestled and played with you like a child! I… I gave you  _ baths _ …” Gavin’s face was so red it was indistinguishable from the bloodied cuts on his face. The Vagabond stared for a moment, and then the pair of them were rolling on the ground laughing.

When they finally got their breath back, The Vagabond smirked at Gavin.

“Perhaps one day you should just join me in the bath then. Would that make it less awkward?” he asked. The electricity flared in his gut. When Gavin met the Vagabond’s eyes again, there was a fierce promise in them. Gavin bit his lip and looked away, but gave The Vagabond’s hand a gentle squeeze; he hadn’t let go of it. They both jumped as a terrible roar rang out around them.

“Right. Yes, maybe later. Right now, we have other problems to deal with,” Gavin said. He dropped the Vagabond’s hand and the pair of them crawled to the edge of the catwalk. Down below them, Edgar was stomping through the shattered remains of a dozen or so crates. A small figure crawled away as the monster advanced, leg crooked and leaving a bloody trail.

“Geoff!” screamed Gavin. He and The Vagabond got to their feet and ran along the catwalks. Beneath their feet they saw Michael burst from the rubble with a jagged plank in his hands. With a furious cry, he launched himself at Edgar and buried the wood into the beast’s back. It barely scratched him. Edgar snarled and twisted. He swatted Michael and the lad went sailing away, landing with a horrible crunch in the broken boxes. Jack sprinted from the rubble too. He held a heavy steel pipe and swung it at the beast’s legs. Edgar turned at the last second and caught the makeshift club in one claw. He sneered with mismatched fangs and jerked the weapon out of Jack’s hands. The big, bearded man tried to run but Edgar brought the pipe down on Jack’s shoulder. Jack crumpled. The Vagabond and Gavin scrambled for the nearest stairs.

“We have to help them!” babbled Gavin.

“I know, but how?”

“We have to get Edgar’s attention off of them first! Then we figure out how to fight him,” Gavin said. He turned to The Vagabond.

“We need… we really need you,” he said.

The Vagabond gritted his teeth.

“We need to you to shift. You’re fast in your wolf form! Edgar won’t even be able to touch you. You can see it. He’s huge, but slow. If you can get him to focus on you, then the rest of us can work on something together,” Gavin said.

The Vagabond frowned but nodded. He shucked off his jacket and boots. He knelt at the top of the stairs. Gavin watched with morbid anticipation. The dark haired man screwed his face up in concentration. Edgar roared. There was a scream. Below them, Jeremy had run to Geoff and tried to drag him away. Edgar had slashed him across the back. His purple jacket was dark and shiny with blood.

The Vagabond gasped. He grabbed Gavin’s arm.

“I can’t do it! I still can’t…”

Gavin put his hands on The Vagabond’s shoulders. The lad looked pale, his eyes darting to the massacre below.

“Please! You  _ can  _ do this! I know you can!”

“I’m trying! I don’t know what’s wrong! I can’t remember…” The Vagabond was shaking again.

Gavin gripped his shoulders.

“You have to. You’ve got to help us. Please… we need you. Ryan, I need you, Ryan…” The lad’s hands loosened on The Vagabond’s shoulders and slipped around to his back. Gavin leaned in. Those bright green eyes fluttered shut and his soft lips met the Vagabond’s.

It was like someone had shut off all the sound. His world shrank down to the feel of Gavin’s lips as they slid against his, the tremor in the lad’s fingers as they trailed to his neck, and the heat of their chests pressed together. He was struck by lightning. Every millimetre where they touched was alight with electricity. All of his fear was chased away by the sweeping, buzzing sensation. A wild, but familiar feeling rushed through him. The Vagabond clutched at that wild sensation and drew on it, pulling it to the surface and letting it flow over his body. A bone deep pain spiked through him.


	16. To the Slaughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> It's the Fake AH Crew vs Edgar in the greatest battle since Theseus and the Minotaur...

Edgar’s laugh was like the boom of a bass drum. It reverberated through Geoff’s chest. His body was cold with fear. He’d been trying to run to the next bit of cover and hide, but Edgar had been too fast. The enormous creature had lunged, huge hoof coming down on Geoff’s legs. Geoff gasped, trying not to scream as his broken, twisted limbs dragged through the rubble. Jeremy’s hands were slick with blood and the young man panted as he pulled Geoff away.

“Jack! Jack!” Geoff called. The red bearded man groaned and got to his hands and knees. Edgar had hit Jack so hard it was a wonder he was even conscious still. Edgar dropped the metal pipe and stomped towards Jack. The shaggy cow face was nightmare-inducing as the creature grinned with long sharp teeth.

“Jack! Get up! Get up!” screamed Geoff. He struggled to free himself from Jeremy’s arms. Edgar caught Jack as he was trying to crawl away.  He placed a huge clawed hand on the back of the man’s neck and shoved him to the ground.

“Jack! No! Let him go you fucker! You cunt!  _ Let him go! _ ” Geoff was fighting Jeremy to get away. Edgar tightened his grip on the man’s neck and lifted him up off the ground. Jack was terribly pale. His glasses were gone and blood ran from his mouth. Edgar turned to look at Geoff. The moustached man was still spitting and swearing and struggling to get to his feet. Jeremy was about to collapse. Edgar held Jack out to Geoff. The tattooed man went silent and stared. Jack’s feet kicked weakly, barely brushing the ground. Edgar cocked his head.

“ **Beg** ,” said the monster.

Geoff’s adam’s apple bobbed. “Please,” he said, his voice shaky.

Edgar sneered and lifted Jack up a foot.

“Wait! Please! Please don’t hurt him! I’m begging you! Please! I’ll do anything! Just - just don’t hurt him!” Geoff cried.

Edgar’s grin widened and he lifted Jack higher. Jack’s hands scrabbled at Edgar’s grip as the beast tightened its fingers.

“Please! Please stop it! I’m begging you! Stop - please I’ll do anything you want!” Geoff’s words were punctuated with sobs.

The rapid approach of large, soft paws was only just audible. Edgar roared in surprise, starting forwards and losing his grip on Jack. The creature stumbled and when he straightened up, a huge black wolf with white face markings stood over Jack. Its hackles were raised and its teeth stained with blood.

“ **Cousin** …” growled Edgar.

The dog snarled and flattened its ears. The Vagabond stalked to the side. Edgar’s beady eyes followed the dog. He snorted.

“ **Are you** **_hunting_ ** **me, James** ?”

The Vagabond continued to pad around Edgar. The creature turned to keep him in sight.

“ **You cannot possibly think that you can fight me in this form. These humans are merely ants for me to crush. I am so far above them. I am even further above you. You are nothing compared to me. You will experience my power when I rip your tail, then your legs, then your head from your pathetic body** .”

Vagabond just continued to circle him. Edgar had to rotate on the spot to keep the wolf in view. He hadn’t noticed that Jeremy had managed to drag Geoff away and had now come back for Jack. Michael stumbled to unsteady feet too and helped Jeremy carry Jack to safety.

“ **What are you waiting for James? I killed your parents! I am going to kill your friends. I tortured you for years! Attack me! Let me show you just how powerful I have become!** ” Edgar bellowed. The Vagabond never let up his steady pace. Those ice-blue eyes were fixed on Edgar. The minotaur flexed its claw-tipped fingers and lashed his tail. 

“ **I will crush you!** ”

The Vagabond’s rhythm didn’t even falter. Edgar roared. He lowered his head and charged at the dog. The Vagabond planted his feet and snarled as the beast charged towards him. The gap closed to mere feet and then suddenly the black dog was twisting away. He leapt to the side and stretched his neck out. Almost neatly, he sank his teeth into the muscle of the minotaur’s calf. Edgar bellowed again and stumbled. He twisted around, raking his claws at the dog, but The Vagabond had already leapt out of range. Edgar snorted and stormed towards The Vagabond. The big black dog backed up, keeping pace with the minotaur, but never taking his eyes off the monster. Edgar stopped, breathing heavily and staring at The Vagabond. The dog began circling him again. Edgar’s claws twitched as he had to turn again to keep the dog in sight.

“ **You think this is funny, mutt?** ” Edgar rumbled.

Vagabond continued pacing. Edgar stopped turning. The Vagabond moved around behind the minotaur. 

“ **You don’t think I can see what you’re trying to do, cousin?** ”

The Vagabond dashed forward and Edgar turned to meet him. The dog pulled back a safe distance away. He’d know that Edgar would anticipate him. The bull-headed creature roared.

“ **You coward! You run! You run and you don’t fight! You yellow-bellied, spineless son-of-a-bitch!** ”

Edgar lunged a few steps towards The Vagabond, but the shifter just danced backwards. Edgar stopped. He clenched his fists and stared at The Vagabond, breathing heavily.

“ **I killed your parents… I peeled the skin from your father’s bones as easily as skinning fruit. Did you know that once removed, a shifter’s skin does not change back?** ”

The Vagabond’s ears flattened against his head and he snarled.

Edgar threw back his head and laughed.

“ **And your mother - she actually survived the extraction. Not many did. She didn’t last long afterwards of course, but it was terribly amusing watching her try to shift and be unable to do so…** ”

The dog crouched, muscles like steel cables sliding under dark fur. He dashed towards Edgar. The minotaur lowered his head and charged with a terrible grin. The gap between the two closed within fractions of a second, but then Edgar was jerked backwards. He screamed, the sound high and piercing. The Vagabond dodged to the side, slipping behind the beast and tearing at his hamstrings again. Edgar twisted and kicked out with huge hooves. The Vagabond was not so lucky this time, the kick catching him solidly in the ribs and sending him flying. Edgar’s hands scrabbled to the point where an ancient rusted meathook was now embedded in his shoulder. Up on the catwalks, Gavin dashed away. Edgar groaned and pulled the hook from his shoulder meat with a sucking sound. Thick, dark blood gushed from the wound, staining the black and white fur.

“ **An ironic trick, cousin! Your little pack is quite resourceful,** ” Edgar rumbled. He turned to face the black dog who’d gotten back on his feet. The minotaur was not the only one breathing heavily now. The Vagabond shuddered as he inhaled. His legs shook under him. Edgar snorted and charged again. The second hook swung down past the minotaur’s head, catching one horn and sending it clattering to the floor. Edgar had seen it coming though and had intercepted The Vagabond as he tried to dash away again. The dog howled as thick claws raked at his hindquarters. He stumbled and put some distance between himself and the monster. Edgar slowed too. Cursing, he put a paw to the now raw, bleeding stump on the side of his head. His head snapped upwards as hurried footsteps rattled the catwalks overhead. With guttural shout Edgar lunged after Gavin. He leapt up and grabbed the edge of the walkway. The lightweight metal groaned under the minotaur’s immense weight and broke away from the ceiling. Gavin screamed as the catwalk was ripped from under him and he tumbled towards the abattoir floor. The lad’s body hit the ground. Edgar snorted and released the twisted catwalk. He stalked over to Gavin’s crumpled form. The minotaur reached for the young man and a terrible growl ripped through the warehouse. Edgar grinned and snatched up the lad’s limp body, turning to face the wolf. The Vagabond’s hackles were raised and every tooth was visible as he peeled his lips back. His blue eyes were wild.

“ **Aha… they may be your new pack, but this one is your favourite,** ” Edgar said. His huge hand curled around Gavin’s slender chest. The Vagabond snarled.  Edgar enclosed the lad’s arm with his other enormous paw. He looked directly at The Vagabond. The wolf was vibrating in his fury. Edgar grinned and tightened his grasp, shattering the bones in Gavin’s arm. Gavin’s eyes flew open and he screamed. The Vagabond was like a streak of black lightning. He barreled into Edgar’s legs, sending the minotaur stumbling backwards a few steps. The dog ducked around, latching onto Edgar’s legs again. He tore at the muscle there. Edgar bellowed and released Gavin’s arm. He swatted at the dog, but The Vagabond did not relent. He snarled as he savaged the minotaur’s legs. Edgar yelled again, blood running freely down the backs of his legs now. Glistening red muscle showed between The Vagabond’s enormous jaws as he tore into Edgar’s flesh. Edgar clawed again at the wolf but The Vagabond hung on. Edgar screamed and dropped to a knee. He released Gavin and twisted around to grab The Vagabond instead. He tore the dog away from his leg and threw him across the room. The wolf’s form crashed into a stack a of palettes and he slumped to the ground. Edgar went to stand up, but found that he could not. The muscles of his legs were shredded and unresponsive. With a grunt, Edgar used his hands to push himself to his feet. He staggered towards The Vagabond. The black dog was scrabbling on the concrete. His black fur was slick with blood. The minotaurs footsteps were ponderous and pained, but his face was set in fury.

“ **Is that the best you’ve got, mutt?** ” Edgar growled. The Vagabond’s eyes rolled as he tried to get up. Edgar snarled and pinned him to the floor with a huge hand. The dog snapped and kicked, but Edgar grabbed him by the neck with both hands and lifted him up. The Vagabond struggled in the minotaur’s grasp. Edgar wasn’t smiling anymore.

“ **And now you see… I have evolved. I am stronger than you in every way. I am better than you…** ”

The Vagabond gasped and choked as Edgar tightened his grip. The blue eyes rolled and fixed on a point over Edgar’s shoulder. The canine teeth stretched into a grin. Edgar blinked. There was a warbling, high pitched yell and something landed on Edgar’s back. The minotaur twisted and turned, but Gavin forced himself to hold onto the thick fur of the creature’s neck with his one shattered arm. With his other, he raised the huge broken horn that he’d snatched up from the ground and plunged it deep into Edgar’s neck. The beast stopped moving. He quivered. Edgar shuffled forward a step and then fell to his knees. The minotaur’s limbs went slack. He tried to cry out again, but could only gurgle. He swayed for a moment and then crashed to the ground. Gavin was thrown from his back. The lad rolled and slammed into the base of a machine. He gasped and fell back as pain lanced through his being. He stared at the ceiling, his vision swimming. The abattoir fell quiet. Dust motes floated through the dim lighting. The only sounds now were the occasional cracks of the broken electrical wires in the ruined catwalk, and the steady drip of condensation - or perhaps that was blood.

Gavin shook his head. Agony surged through his limbs and he hissed. He hauled himself up and held his broken arm away from his body.

“V-vagabond?” Gavin called. His vision blurred when he coughed, but he shoved the pain away. “Vagabond? Where are you?”

“Holy shit. You killed him, Gavin.”

The lad spun around. Jeremy stood there. His clothing was still soaked with blood, but there was a makeshift bandage wrapped around his torso. He looked much too pale as he hobbled towards Gavin. A still-cursing Geoff followed close behind, legs splinted with bits of rag and palette and propped up by also very battered looking Michael and Jack.

“You guys are alright!” Gavin’s voice cracked.

“We’ve seen better days, but we’re okay.” Jack’s voice sounded as if he’d been smoking for twenty years.

“Gav, your arm,” said Michael.

“Never mind that! He had Vagabond!” Gavin said, flapping his good arm at the downed beast. The rest of the crew struggled after Gavin as the lad dashed over to the huge form of Edgar. He whipped his head back and forth, looking for any sign of the canine. Gavin gave a strangled yelled. He’d spotted dark paws sticking out from under Edgar’s massive chest. Gavin hooked the fingers of his good hand under Edgar and tried to roll him off the dog. The creature wouldn’t budge.

“Oh, shit,” Michael hissed. He and Jack lowered Geoff to the ground and the red-haired lad ran over to help. Jeremy joined them. The three managed to heave the minotaur’s body off the Vagabond.

Gavin collapsed near the dog’s head and pulled it into his lap. His broken arm curled around The Vagabond and he stroked the black and white snout with the other. The rest of the Fakes gathered around.

“Is he still alive?” Geoff asked and reached a tentative hand into The Vagabond’s bloodied fur.

“He’s still bleeding, so I think so,” said Jack as hurriedly ripped more of his shirt into strips of bandage. Gavin bent forwards and pressed his forehead to The Vagabond’s.

“Please wake up,” he said.

Jeremy and Michael had knelt on either side of Gavin. Jeremy stroked The Vagabond too.

“You gotta wake up dude,” Jeremy said.

“Come on man,” Michael said, patting Vagabond’s shoulder gently.

“ _ Please wake up Ryan… _ ” Gavin whispered. His eyes were wet.

The shifter opened his ice blue eyes and groaned. The crew let out an exhausted cheer. Gavin remained silent, but a broad grin crept onto his face. The Vagabond’s movements were weak, but he managed to lift his head. He snuffled at Gavin’s face, and then licked his nose. The lad reared back and scrubbed at it.

“Aw, Ry! That’s gross!”

The Vagabond whined. Gavin returned to hugging him.

“It’s okay Ry. I’ve got you. You’re here. You’re you, remember?”

The dog gave a shaky nod. Then he shivered. There were hisses of surprise as the dark fur rippled and vanished. Four legs became two. Pale skin showed and the tooth filled snout shrank. The Vagabond’s sudden howl choked off into a human yell. Gavin continued to hold the shifter tightly until finally the man collapsed against him. Gavin stroked the long black hair, not caring about the amount of blood he was getting on him.

“Why did you change back?” he asked.

“Had to...” The Vagabond panted.

“But your bones were broken! That must have hurt a hundred times more!”

The Vagabond nodded shakily. “It did. I just didn’t want to spend… too long…”

Gavin drew gentle finger down the shifter’s chin.

“But Ryan, you’re starkers, Ryan,” said the lanky lad.

A low chuckle rumbled from the shifter’s chest and spread through the group. It rose and rose until the six were practically rolling on the floor of the filthy abattoir, laughing and holding their guts.

When their hysterics finally petered out, they stared around at each other, grinning. Jack went immediately to bandaging the lacerations on The Vagabond’s torso while Geoff pulled off his tuxedo jacket and offered it to the naked man. Jeremy fetched The Vagabond’s clothes from where he’d shed them.

“Did we seriously just fight that?” Jeremy asked when he’d returned. Heads turned to the still form of Edgar.

“I guess we did,” said Geoff.

“Hah! I can’t wait to add that to my resume -” Michael mimed writing in the air, “Slayed a minotaur.”

“Why do you have a resume? You’re a fucking criminal,” Geoff said, shoving the red-head.

“It’s  _ slew _ , Michael, and besides - I did it,” said Gavin. He hadn’t taken his eyes off The Vagabond yet. The man grunted.

“Oh, and I suppose Ryan helped too,” Gavin said.

The Vagabond rolled his eyes. He shimmied gingerly into his pants, but declined to put his shirt back on, as that would require him to lift his hands above his head. It took all three lads to then pulled the shifter to his feet. He and Gavin held onto each other for stability.

“Do you think you can walk?” Gavin asked.

The Vagabond nodded and took a cautious step towards Edgar’s corpse. Edgar twitched. The whole crew jumped and Geoff shrieked. The massive minotaur shuddered. Its shoulders jerked and its horn scraped on the floor. The Fakes backed away. Edgar let out a terrible, rattling cry as he too began to shift back into his human form. The enormous cloven hooves turned into feet. Patched fur disappeared. The fanged snout shrank down into his mask-marred human face. The man’s legs were a mess. He lay face down and a huge wound had opened on the side of his head where his horn had been. The makeshift weapon jammed in his neck fell to the ground with a clatter.

“Y-you… how c-could you...” The man’s voice was weak. Edgar’s eyes were still a dark, muddy colour. They were open wide and staring at the six. He shuddered again but appeared to be unable to move.

“You s-sons of b-bitches… I’ll hav-have you all sk-skinned...” Edgar gasped for breath like a fish sitting out of water. 

Jack’s face reflected their moustached boss’s one of disgust and anger. Michael bared his teeth and clenched his fists. Jeremy cracked his knuckles.

“How is this fucker not dead yet?” asked the Bostonian.

“I’ll - I’ll kill you a-all...” Edgar moaned, his eyes rolling in his skull.

Gavin’s eyes were hard, but nothing matched the rage on The Vagabond’s paint and blood streaked face. He strode towards Edgar, his injuries temporarily forgotten. He grabbed Edgar by the hair and pulled him up off the concrete. Edgar gasped and snarled.

“James... C-cousin… Y-you can-cannot best me… I am m-more p-powerful... ”

The Vagabond growled and dropped him to the floor again. Edgar cried out as his skull cracked against the stained grey stone. The Vagabond began circling Edgar. The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps reached them. The crew looked up. Several men and women burst from the darkness, weapons drawn, determined looks on their faces. The one in the lead, a rather nerdy looking guy with long curly hair lowered his gun as he took the sight of the bloodied and mangled Fakes.

“Guys? What the fuck happened to you?”

“Hey Shifty,” said Geoff. 

The rest of the B-Team also started staring, lowering their weapons in shock. 

“I agree with Larry - what the fuck happened?” asked a tall, thin, dark haired man.

“Trevor. I need you to call in Caleb and all the other medical staff. We’ll need some being looked at when we get back. The rest of you, go secure the perimeter or something,” Geoff said.

Trevor gave a casual salute and rounded up the gawking B-Team. Only Larry remained, still looking dumbstruck.

“How did you guys get in? I mean, not that I’m complaining now you’re here…” Geoff said.

Larry waved a hand towards where they’d come from. “The shutters all closed according to plan. I was about to head off when I heard… noises… and screaming. I told the others to get down here and to bring an industrial blowtorch to cut through the wall. We had to rip it out of the garage. How did all of this…?” Larry gestured to their injuries now.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Geoff said with a wan smile.

Larry just nodded uncertainly.

“Go with the others,” Jack croaked. “We’re not finished here.”

The Vagabond stopped pacing next to Larry. His eyes were piercing as he stared down at the young man.

“Pistol,” he growled.

Larry wordlessly handed him the gun, turned and scarpered. The Vagabond checked the weapon. Years of practice made his actions look fluid. Edgar watched him, his breath rapid and shallow. The Vagabond cocked the gun and Edgar flinched.

“Cousin… J-James…”

The Vagabond strode over to Edgar and stopped. The prone man’s chest shuddered as he struggled for air.

“James… I have m-money… Y-you don’t have t-to do this-” Edgar broke off into a cry of pain as The Vagabond put a foot on his neck. He pressed down on the hole left by the horn and Edgar’s anguished scream rose in pitch.

“You took my people and butchered them. You mutilated children. You killed my parents.”

The Vagabond ground his foot down harder. Edgar’s screams were choked off.

“The  _ years  _ of torture. You tried to hurt my  _ crew _ . And now you think you can just  _ buy _ us off?”

The Vagabond took his foot off Edgar’s neck. The man gasped and spluttered. The Vagabond crouched down and grabbed the man’s distorted chin. Edgar shuddered at the feeling of the cold gun muzzle on his temple. Arctic-blue eyes found muddy brown ones.

“N-no… please… d-don’t…” stammered Edgar.

The Vagabond cocked his head. The mercenary's black face paint was smeared with blood and sweat and grime. 

“Do you remember when you killed me?” he asked.

Edgar continued to beg in hasty breaths. The Vagabond tutted.

“You really should. You made it special after all. You could have just had me shot. Or slit my throat yourself - but no. You might have said that you despise our culture - that you hate shifters - that you’re  _ better _ than us, but just look at you. You stole our powers. More than anything you want to  _ be  _ one of us. And that’s why you drowned me. Like a helpless puppy in a well. A dog in a sack, thrown into the ocean - the worst insult to our kind - to be killed like an animal.”

Edgar moaned. The barrel of the gun was pressed so hard into his temple.

“Well, if you wanted to be one of us so much, then I’ll give you just what you’ve always wanted. You seem to have taken a lot of your semblance from a cow. Do you know how they slaughter cattle?”

Edgar was shaking. The Vagabond gestured around at the decrepit abattoir.

“It happens in a place like this. The dumb beasts are funneled in, and there’s a man, with a gun - it’s a bit different, but I’ll make do - and he shoots them right in the head.”

“James… J-James p-please…”

The Vagabond sneered at the blubbering man and then looked up to Geoff. The boss’s face was hard and he nodded. The Vagabond looked back down at Edgar.

“You should have stayed in your form, you coward,” he snarled.

“Please - I don’t want t-to-”

There was a sharp crack and then nothing.

The Vagabond lurched to his feet. Gavin was there. The pair leant on each other.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here,” said Geoff.

The six Fakes turned and hobbled away, leaving the mangled, naked corpse behind them. Jeremy began to snigger. The others looked at him. He pointed at The Vagabond.

“Was the pun intentional?” he asked.

The Vagabond just gave him a confused look. Jeremy’s lips twisted to the side.

“You called him a  _ cow _ ard,” said the blue-haired lad.

The crew burst into laughter again.


	17. Fairytale Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Free, hacker extraordinaire for the Fake AH Crew, finds an injured dog. Big, black and mean, Geoff reluctantly agrees to let him keep it and train it to be a guard dog. Little do they know, Vagabond (or Ryan, as Gav prefers to call the beast) is not exactly what he seems…  
> \---  
> The crew recovers while things between Gavin and Ryan unfold...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter you've all been waiting for!  
> The smut-train has pulled into the station!

Life in the penthouse returned to normal - as normal as it got for the Fake AH Crew. The six of them had a long period of recovery ahead of them in which they were all banned from doing anything crime-related. This included firing guns, knocking over banks and convenience stores, and driving fast cars - anything strenuous really. Geoff was to be confined to a wheelchair for several weeks while his legs set. Unfortunately, Caleb couldn’t keep him in the chair. Geoff had insisted that he was fine on crutches and that he was a very busy crime-boss with lots of things to do. The doctor had then enlisted Jack’s help.

“There. Maybe now you’ll actually heal properly,” Jack said. He was panting, having wrestled Geoff one-armed back into the wheelchair. His other arm was in a sling. Edgar had done a number on the whole shoulder area and his upper torso. Cuffs clicked shut on Geoff’s ankles and Jack pocketed the key. The tattooed man stared down at the padded shackles. He made a disbelieving noise. Jack chuckled.

“You mentioned recently you wanted to get more adventurous in the bedroom,” he said.

“Not like this!” Geoff said, his voice cracking.

“Ugh. I did  _ not  _ need to know that,” said Michael from the couch. He pulled a face as he played Grand Theft Auto on the big screen. One might question why the lad would want to play a game about committing larceny, when the crew so often did exactly that in real life.

“It’s bad enough that we have to listen to you two bang now. We do not need details about your sordid love life,” said Jeremy from the kitchen.

“I still can’t believe that they only  _ just  _ got together,” said Michael as Jack wheeled the still-complaining Geoff down the hallway.

“I just thought that they fucked really,  _ really  _ quietly!” said Jeremy, shaking his head. He grabbed his plate, wandered over to the couch and plopped down beside Michael. The freckled lad tried to steal a pickle off Jeremy’s sandwich, but the shorter man slapped his hands away.

“Where’s Gav and The Vagabond then?” Michael asked as he turned back to his game.

“Not sure. They’re probably on another of their cute little dates. Those pair are adorable,” Jeremy said.

“Ugh. It’s so sweet it’s sickening honestly,” replied Michael, pulling another face. 

“At least  _ they _ haven’t fucked yet. I’d imagine that’d make some horrifying noises…” said Jeremy.

“Like a dog howling and a bird dying…” said Michael. The pair shuddered. Then Michael chuckled.

“It seems like we’re the only two left then. We should hook up as a joke just to complete the set!” he said. He didn’t notice the way Jeremy turned the same colour as his new red hair dye and suddenly had a great need to not be in the room.

 

Several weeks later, The Vagabond and Gavin were out on yet another date. The two were basically inseparable once again. The Vagabond had taken Gavin up to the top of Mount Chiliad and the pair had spent a long evening messing about and letting off fireworks. They returned to the penthouse late that night, laughing and covered in soot - one of the fireworks had gone off a little early, singeing their clothes and speckling their skin with tiny burns.

The living room was dark and quiet as they toed off shoes and The Vagabond hung up his keys. Gavin slipped up behind him and put his arms around The Vagabond’s torso. The man hummed and leant back against Gavin a little.

“You know, if I weren’t so used to it by now, I would say that little move might just have cost you a hand,” said the taller man in a wry tone. Gavin laughed against his back. The Vagabond pried Gavin’s hand from his chest and inspected it. There was still a tiny silver-white scar in the middle of the lad’s palm. Gavin took his hand back.

“Don’t you worry about that now. It was a long time ago. You only bite when you mean to now,” said Gavin. He squeezed The Vagabond around the middle, making the man laugh again.

“Hey,” said Gavin. “You didn’t complain that time.”

“Yeah, my ribs are basically healed now. Caleb gave me the all clear earlier today. I should be able to get back to work very soon,” said The Vagabond, turning in Gavin’s embrace so he could look the lad in the face. Gavin grinned.

“Hey! Me too! He’s coming by tomorrow to take my cast off. I gotta be careful with it, but I am so going to enjoy not having to type with one hand now. You can’t imagine how much slower it is to try and hack with one hand almost literally tied behind my back.”

“I don’t have to imagine. You’ve told me. Multiple times,” The Vagabond chided, but there was a smile on his face. The two lapsed into silence, just standing the the hallway, their arms around each other. The Vagabond raised an eyebrow.

“So… are you going to let me go and have a shower, or are we going to slow dance here all night?”

Gavin laughed and turned pink. He disentangled his long limbs from the man and they separated.

“I had a lovely night. Thank you Ry,” Gavin said. The Vagabond reached out, cupping Gavin’s narrow face and drawing it in for a kiss. Their lips touched and electricity sparked between them. Gavin responded in earnest. They had shared many kisses since that first one on the catwalks above the rotten abattoir, but the feeling had not diminished in any way. It made The Vagabond’s whole body light up with sparks. Gavin gasped into his mouth and his good hand jumped up to fist the front of The Vagabond’s jacket. The Vagabond ran his hand through Gavin’s hair, tugging the sandy blonde locks gently while his other cradled the back of Gavin’s head, pulling him closer, crushing their lips together. Gavin found himself being pressed up against the wall. Finally, The Vagabond broke the kiss off. The two panted for breath. The Vagabond grinned apologetically.

“Sorry, I really ought to go have that shower now,” he said.

Gavin pouted and petted the front of The Vagabond’s shirt.

“But I like kissing you…” he said.

The Vagabond rolled his eyes. He leant forward quickly and licked the tip of Gavin’s nose before pushing off the wall and striding towards his room. The Brit squawked and scrubbed at his face.

“Ry! You smegpot! That’s just gross!”

There was a bright flash of a smile and a chuckle in the darkness. Gavin looked towards where The Vagabond had disappeared and bit his lip.

 

The Vagabond groaned. His skin was still tingling from Gavin’s assault on his lips. He was also absolutely rock hard in his pants. He couldn’t count the number of times over the past month he’d had to go relieve himself, or take an ice cold shower. He wanted Gavin. He wanted him bad. But he’d held himself back. Despite his confessions in the abattoir, Gavin had still been extremely shy. He would clam up when talking or would withdraw from the room entirely sometimes. The Vagabond had understood the lad’s need for space, but that didn’t stop him from feeling like he was going to explode whenever they  _ did  _ touch.

They had taken things very slow. The Vagabond had taken the lad out for casual dinner dates at his favourite takeaway places - spots he knew Gavin would feel comfortable. They’d progressed from there to the very fancy dinner date at one of the more exclusive restaurants in Achievement City. The Vagabond grinned at the memory of the hacker looking resplendent in his sharp suit, crisp white shirt, and the thinnest black tie imaginable. They’d held hands at every opportune moment that night.

More dinner dates had followed. They went out bowling and to clubs and then to every other touristy thing that Achievement City had to offer. They spent a memorable day, and then an evening at the beach with Meg, The Vagabond’s sister. The purple-haired woman had been thrilled to finally be introduced properly to the man her brother had apparently been unable to shut up about. The Vagabond had endured Meg telling Gavin every sordid detail of their childhood, until he finally moved the topic onto shifters. This led to an enjoyable few hours of the siblings shifting into their animal forms and racing up and down the beach in the dark and playfighting with Gavin in the sand. Exhausted, Gavin had collapsed on the beach towels next to their little bonfire. Meg had wandered over, the firelight making her pitch fur gleam purple in the darkness, and attempted to curl up on Gavin’s feet. The Vagabond had snorted, trotted over and knocked his sister off his boyfriend and sat on him. Gavin had nearly choked on his laughter.

The Vagabond hissed as he went to undo his belt buckle and caused his jeans to shift and rub against his erection. He clenched his hands. What he wouldn’t give to have Gavin there, his lithe hacker’s fingers popping open the button and zipping the fly down. Those slim hands… Another noise of frustration escaped the mercenary. There was a soft knock at the door and The Vagabond jumped. He cursed silently.

“Yeah?” he called.

“Ry?” came a small voice from the other side.

“What’s wrong Gav?”

“I - nothing. I just… I heard some bloody weird noises. You okay in there?”

The Vagabond cursed silently again. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

There was a few moments of silence. The Vagabond stared at the door. He hadn’t heard Gavin leave.

“Ry?”

“Yes Gavin?”

“Could I come in for a sec?”

The Vagabond swallowed. Hot and cold feelings suddenly rushed through his body. Most of them pooled in his groin, somehow making him even harder. He pushed the feelings away. Gavin probably just wanted to ask him something. He unlocked the door and opened it.

Gavin blinked up at him. The Vagabond couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face. It was almost immediately chased away by concern.

“Gav! Your arm!”

The Vagabond reached out and took it gently. Minutes ago it had been covered in a cast. Gavin gave him a toothy smile. The Vagabond now noticed the plaster dust on the lad’s clothing.

“It didn’t look so hard when yours came off. I thought I’d just do it myself and save Caleb the trip. ‘Sides, it was getting in the road,” Gavin said. He trotted into the bathroom and leant up against the gilt sink. The Vagabond frowned and closed the door.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” he asked.

Gavin cocked an eyebrow now.

“No, you mong. I also wanted to tell you to kiss me again,” he said.

The Vagabond stood stock still and stared at the lean Brit.

“What?”

Gavin sniggered. “C’mere and kiss me. This is what you’ve been waiting for, hasn’t it? You wanted your ribs and my arm to heal before we could do anything more. The waiting has been absolutely  _ killing _ me. I had to leave the room sometimes because… well...” Gavin gave him a look.

The Vagabond stared at the lad some more. He swallowed again. Gavin tilted his head.

“Wait... is that not what you’ve been waiting for?” he asked.

“I mean, the cast was one thing, but I was giving you space. I thought you were still feeling this all out with me being a shifter - and having to deal with Edgar - and everything...” The Vagabond said. It was Gavin’s turn to stare.

“I - you - what?” he squawked. The lad frowned. He pushed off the basin and strode over to the Vagabond, slipping his hands around the man’s neck and pulling him down a little.

“You mean to tell me that we could have been shagging this whole time, but you’ve been too  _ gentlemanly? _ ”

The Vagabond was wide-eyed, but he nodded. “It might have been something along those lines.”

One of Gavin’s hands whipped down to cup the front of The Vagabond’s jeans. The older man’s head fell backwards with a garbled groaning noise. Gavin’s cheeks went red.

“Bloody hell…” he whispered and grinned.

The lad suddenly found himself pinned up against the bathroom door. He yelped; The Vagabond had moved too quickly to process properly. The Vagabond’s hands were tight on his upper arms. The man’s chest was heaving and his pupils were dilated. Gavin dragged his eyes away from the sizable tent in The Vagabond’s jeans, settling them on the rugged face so close to his.

“Gavin… are you sure about this?” Lust lent The Vagabond’s voice gravel. 

The lad shivered, slivers of arousal coiling in his gut, and nodded.

The Vagabond groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut. It looked like it was causing him physical pain to hold back.

“I just want you to be sure. I - I haven’t done this in…I don’t know how long...” The Vagabond shuddered and bit his lip.

“You haven’t - you haven’t banged since you turned human again?” Gavin asked.

The Vagabond shook his head.

“God, Ry. Why on earth not? I would have exploded I think,” Gavin said, looking alarmed.

The Vagabond met his eyes. Those ice-blue irises were intense. “I was a bit preoccupied with thinking that you no longer liked me. I wanted you Gav. Only you.”

Gavin cradled the Vagabond’s face in his hands.

“Ry, my lovely Ryan. Stop being so nice and do me this bloody instant,” he said.

The Vagabond surged forward, crushing their lips together and slamming Gavin up against the door. The lad’s hands flailed for a moment before coming back and sinking into the merc’s hair. Their lips moved against each other, hungry and needy. Gavin’s tongue darted out, swiping at The Vagabond’s lips and he opened them immediately. Gavin’s breath shuddered as he delved into his boyfriend’s mouth, tasting desperately. The Vagabond responded eagerly and their tongues danced for dominance.

Gavin was practically undulating where he’d been pinned to the door. The Vagabond’s strong hands were running up and down his chest and one leg was slotted between his skinny ones, putting delicious pressure on his growing erection. The taller man shifted, increasing the contact and Gavin moaned. His own legs shot up, wrapping around The Vagabond’s waist and locking him in place. This position caused their cocks to rub together through their jeans. The Vagabond hissed and pulled away from Gavin’s lips. The lad looked stunned. His lips were red and shiny and his eyes were now blown wide with arousal too. The lad let out a series of incomprehensible noises as The Vagabond dove back in, peppering the hacker’s tanned neck with kisses and nips. The mercenary’s fingers were deft as they unbuttoned Gavin’s shirt and pushed it out of the way. The lad let his head fall back as The Vagabond’s mouth trailed down his chest. He jumped as teeth grazed over a nipple.

“Oi!” he said.

The Vagabond looked up at him, shit-eating grin on his face. Gavin pouted and pulled at the man’s shirt. 

“Doesn’t seem fair that you get to keep yours,” he said.

The Vagabond leant back and pulled the dark tee up and over his head, tossing it into the corner.

“Better?” he asked.

Gavin nodded, hands running over the man’s chiseled, scarred chest. The Vagabond chuckled and Gavin could feel the rumble under his fingers. It was the merc’s turn to yelp as Gavin flicked  _ his _ nipple. The lad’s smirk was swallowed as The Vagabond crushed their lips together again. Fingers fumbled at belts and flies and soon they were desperately shoving their jeans off. 

Gavin moaned at the feeling of The Vagabond’s cock against his with only the thin barrier of their boxer briefs in between. He went boneless as The Vagabond’s hand teased at his waistband and then dipped inside.

“Oh god, Ry…” the Brit breathed.

The Vagabond wrapped his hand around Gavin’s cock and stroked it firmly. The Brit’s fingers tightened in his hair. The lad began to pant and they continued kissing furiously. Shudders ran through Gavin’s body with every stroke. The Vagabond leant back, withdrawing his hand. Gavin whined at the loss of contact.

“Are there any supplies in here?” the merc asked.

Gavin flapped a hand at the sink. The Vagabond let the lad slide gently down and turned to rummage in the drawers. When he turned back, condom and lube bottle in hand, he found that Gavin had discarded his underwear. The Vagabond's breath caught in his chest as he took in the sight of the lad plastered against the door, languidly stroking himself, eyes hooded with pleasure. The Vagabond stalked forwards, hoiking Gavin’s legs up again. He squirted some of the lube onto his fingers and placed the bottle on the sink edge. He batted Gavin’s hand out of the way and returned to stroking the lad’s cock with his left hand as he warmed the lube between his right fingers. Only when Gavin was writhing with pleasure, his cock leaking with precome, did The Vagabond slowly tease a finger around Gavin’s rim with a slick finger. Gavin’s breath hitched. When he sunk the finger in Gavin cursed and The Vagabond felt fingernails dig into his scalp. He slowly pumped the finger in and out, feeling Gavin relax against him again. When he added a second finger, the Brit swore again.

“Bloody hell Ry. Your fingers are so amazingly thick.” Gavin’s voice was thick and his eyelids fluttered. The Vagabond pressed in further, pumping faster now and began scissoring them, stretching Gavin’s hole gently.

“All the better to please you with, my dear,” The Vagabond said, grinning wolfishly.

“You did not just quote Little Red Riding Hood at - ah - ahh -  _ aaahhhh! _ ” Gavin’s words broke off into a strangled gasp. The Vagabond had found Gavin’s sweet spot and was now stroking it. The lad practically vibrated with pleasure.

“Ry - please! Please! God, Ryan, I need you. I need you in me, please…” the lad babbled. The Vagabond removed his fingers and Gavin whined, feeling much too empty now. The Vagabond kissed him into silence and pulled his own neglected cock from his underwear. He gave it a few firm strokes and then rolled the condom on. A little more lube and then he was lining up at Gavin’s entrance. They were both shaking in anticipation. The Vagabond’s entire body was flushed with heat and electricity. Wherever his skin touched Gavin’s it felt like live wires. It was exhilarating. The Vagabond’s new name spilled from Gavin’s lips as he slowly pushed into the lad. He sunk in to the hilt and paused. Gavin squirmed and panted as he adjusted to the stretch. After a few moments, Gavin rocked his hips experimentally. The Vagabond's knees nearly went out underneath him. He groaned, slamming a fist against the door.

“Fuck, Gavin…”

Gavin giggled and repeated the motion. The Vagabond gasped and his teeth found Gavin’s shoulder while his hips canted upwards. The lad gave a small cry.

“Yes, Ry, more, please…”

The Vagabond thrust up into Gavin again, making the bathroom door rattle in its frame. And then again. Soon he was pounding into Gavin at a brutal pace. The lad’s legs were locked around the older man’s waist again and he met the thrusts with his own, skin slapping harshly on skin.

“Oh god, I’m - I’m not going to last long with you doing that,” The Vagabond huffed, kissing and sucking on Gavin’s neck in what was sure to be a beautiful stretch of mottled skin in the morning. Gavin grinned again and changed the angle slightly, making The Vagabond groan again. In retaliation, The Vagabond gathered up Gavin’s bouncing cock and began stroking it again in time with his thrusts. Gavin’s smirk was lost to a look of pure ecstasy. The Vagabond grunted as he snapped his hips forward even hard, driving deeper into Gavin. He could feel the heat pooling and condensing in his abdomen. He  thrust into Gavin, angling just right. He knew when he was hitting the lad’s prostate because suddenly Gavin was shouting and coming. Thick white ropes striped his and The Vagabond’s stomachs and the lad’s whole body tensed. The muscles surrounding The Vagabond’s cock rippled and contracted and the resulting orgasm as he followed the lad nearly blinded him. He snapped his hips forward twice more, riding it out and then he staggered, collapsing against Gavin and squashing him against the door. He panted, his head resting on the wood. Gavin’s lithe hands fluttered over his sweat-slicked back and the lad peppered exhausted kisses on his neck and ear. The Vagabond pulled out of Gavin slowly and let him slide to the ground. There was a sucking sound as the stickiness on their chests separated. Gavin looked at the mess on his chest, his expression horrified. The Vagabond chuckled as he pulled off the condom and threw it in the trash bin.

“Come on. I did promise you a bath together, didn’t I?” he said and he pulled Gavin towards the tub.

 

With Gavin’s help, The Vagabond practiced his shifting. It was difficult at first and there were a few days where a large black dog moped around the penthouse after a long day of working and then not having the energy to shift back, but eventually The Vagabond was able to get his powers back under control. The pair were even closer than ever now and made the perfect infiltration team. Gavin with his hacking skills and The Vagabond with his form allowing him to get into more areas than a human would be able to, the two were basically unstoppable. The Vagabond felt more comfortable in the crew every day, and didn’t seem to mind when they also began calling him Ryan. 

“It’s less of a mouthful to say than Vagabond,” explained Jeremy.

Geoff and the other lads sometimes teased Gavin by making jokes that he was into bestiality, but it was all lighthearted fun in the same way they still teased Jeremy about his height or Geoff about his drinking. The Vagabond still took Gavin out on fancy and/or cheesy dates, but now when they went home to the penthouse, they slept in the same room.

 

The front door opened and there was the sound of boots and sharp claws on polished wood. Ryan trotted into the living room. Michael was hanging up his keys in the hallway and slung a duffel bag off his shoulder.

“How’d it go?” Geoff called from the couch.

“Pretty swell,” answered Michael, coming over and dumping the bag in his boss’s lap. He threw himself down on the couch and covered his eyes. “Fucking intense though. I had to keep them all occupied and talking while Ryan scoped out what we needed. My mouth was starting to go dry and I could barely think up more things to say to keep their attention,” he said.

“Did you get what we needed?” Geoff said, turning and catching Ryan’s eye as the dog headed down the hallway. Ryan rolled his eyes and gave Geoff a pointed look that clearly said “You seriously expect me to answer that  _ now? _ ”

Geoff huffed and flapped a hand at Ryan who turned and headed for his and Gavin’s bedroom. He raised a paw, turned the handle (the doorknob had been swapped out a long time ago) and slipped inside. Ryan padded over and put his chin on Gavin’s shoulder. The hacker was seated at his command station, keen eyes flitting between the many screens.

“Hello lovely Ryan,” Gavin said, leaning his head on Ryan’s.

“Hi, dear,” Ryan replied. He kissed Gavin’s neck.

The lad turned and stared.

“Ry! Your clothes!”

Ryan nuzzled his boyfriend’s neck some more, hands running up the hacker’s jean clad legs.

“Where are they?”

“Somewhere in the train yard. Michael and I had to make a hasty escape and I couldn’t go back for them. Came back here in wolf form,” he said. Ryan could feel Gavin leaning into him. He slid his hands up further, grazing against Gavin’s groin. The lad jumped.

“Ryan. You horny bastard. Go and put some clothes on. I’m busy,” Gavin whined. There was a hitch to his voice. Ryan grinned and palmed Gavin through his pants. The lad groaned.

“Why would I do that? I think that the solution here would be for you to take yours  _ off _ ,” Ryan said, his voice turning gravelly. Gavin shrieked as Ryan hooked his arms under the hacker’s legs and picked him up. He carried him to the bed and tossed him down, immediately sliding on top of him and slotting their mouths together. Gavin moaned into Ryan and his hips canted upwards. Ryan slid his hands under Gavin’s shirt and pulled it off. Then he went to work on Gavin’s belt and fly. The lad’s hands threaded lightly through Ryan’s loose black hair. The older man looked up to catch a strange look on Gavin’s face. It was gone quickly, replaced by a smile. Ryan frowned. He propped himself up on his elbows.

“You okay Gav?” he asked.

The lad cocked his head. “What?”

“You looked… uncertain,” Ryan replied.

Gavin shook his head. “What would I be uncertain about? Why’d you stop? I was having fun getting debauched by my lovely boyfriend,” he said and ran his hands through Ryan’s long, dark hair again. Ryan could feel them shake, and not in a good way. He pulled away.

“Nice use of debauched. But, Gavin. Seriously. What’s wrong?”

The lad’s smile fell and he let his hands fall into his lap. Ryan’s throat tightened. A cold feeling stole into his gut.

“I just… You know I think too much. It’s probably just me being in my head too much, but it’s the stuff the other guys say that makes me think…”

A dark look came over Ryan’s face and he turned to the bedroom door. “The furry teasing? Those fuckers. If they’re taking it too far I’m gonna-”

“No! It’s not like that!” Gavin cupped Ryan’s face and turned it back to him. “It’s okay. I promise. The guys are just being their usual idiot selves.”

Ryan huffed. “Well, if it ever gets too much just tell me. I will happily shit in their beds.”

Gavin laughed. A smile crept back onto Ryan’s face.

“No, but what they've been saying has been making me think a lot, but...” Gavin said. He fiddled with the bedsheet now, not meeting Ryan’s eyes. His face was very red. “It’s really stupid…”

It was Ryan’s turn to put a comforting hand on Gavin’s chin.

“Gavin. I’m your boyfriend. You know you can tell me if there is something bothering you,” he said.

The lad nodded and took a deep breath.

“Doyouwantohavesexasawolfwithme?” he blurted.

Ryan blinked.

Gavin turned even redder. “Okay, no, that came out wrong. What I mean is, do you, or, you know, other shifters, have sex when you’re in your animal form? I just - the others were teasing me and I suddenly wondered if that was something that you did and that I was denying you that because I’m not a shifter and even though I love you I don’t know if I could do-” Gavin’s babbling was cut off as Ryan put a finger to his mouth. The mercenary smiled.

“No, Gavin. We do not have sex when we’re in our animal forms. Even for us, that’s just too weird. Besides, animal biology doesn’t work the same way. From what I’ve heard it’s just not, uh, pleasurable,” he said.

Gavin let out a breathy laugh. “Oh. Well. That’s good I guess,” he said.

Ryan grinned. He drew Gavin closer to him, pressing their foreheads together. “Aw. Aren’t you just the cutest. Being all worried for me.”

“Shut up,” Gavin mumbled, his face still red.

“Also, I love you too,” the older man whispered. He kissed Gavin. When he pulled away, the lad’s eyes were shining and he was grinning.

“So, we were in the middle of something if I remember correctly?” Gavin said. His nimble fingers slid down Ryan’s scarred chest. Ryan caught them and kissed them. He sat both of them up.

“Yes we were, but I did want to mention one other thing…”

“Oh?” Gavin said, cocking his head.

“Shifting is definitely not something that is done in bed… fully…” Ryan said slowly.

Gavin’s eyes widened. Ryan’s ears had grown pointed and black-furred, moving to the top of his head. A fluffy black tail lashed behind him. When he smiled timidly, his teeth were long and sharp.

“What the...? How are you doing that?”

“I’m getting more control back over my powers. Means I don’t have to shift fully if I don’t want to. Cames in damn useful when I’m tracking someone. I can sniff them out and not have to give up my clothes and guns,” Ryan said.

Gavin swallowed, feeling his cheeks heat up. Ryan frowned.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it Gav. I can take them away again if it makes you uncomfortable. I was just throwing it out there as an option,” he said quickly.

“No! No! It’s okay… I just… can I touch your ears?”

Ryan grinned. “But of course,” he said.

Gavin reached up slowly, fingers brushing the twitching appendages. The dark fur was so soft. Ryan’s eyes drifted closed as Gavin petted his ears.

“They’re nice,” Gavin said.

“All the better to hear you with, my dear,” Ryan muttered with a smirk.

Gavin screwed up his face. His other hand darted down and yanked at Ryan’s tail. The shifter yelped and his eyes snapped open.

“That’s not funny,” said the lad.

Ryan sniggered. “Really? Well how about when I do this?” Ryan gave the lad a smouldering look, eyes narrowed and sharp teeth showing in his smile. Then he  _ growled _ . Gavin gasped, the low, lustful sound sending a shock of fear and arousal coursing through him. His cock was suddenly blindingly hard. Ryan grinned as he stalked forwards, pushing Gavin back on the bed and covering the lad’s body with his.

“What do you think?” the shifter asked, his voice low and deliciously gravelly. He ran a hand lightly down Gavin’s chest. The lad had not noticed the claw tipped fingers, but the sensation they caused made him buck his hips up into Ryan. He groaned.

“I think that the crew can call me whatever the fuck they want, only if you do  _ that _ again,” Gavin panted.

Ryan growled again and crushed his lips against Gavin’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So this whole almost 80,000 word fic *may* have just been an excuse for me to write that glorious scene from the new Beauty and the Beast into a FAHC fic. You know the one I'm talking about. The one where the human-again-Beast is dancing with Belle and *growls*. /swoons
> 
> I hope y'all have enjoyed this journey as much as I have! It was so much fun reading all of your wonderful comments! Thank you so much to all of you!


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